


Hiraeth

by HybrisAnaideia



Series: Collection of Papyri [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Egypt, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magic Has Existed Throughout History and thus history is a bit different, Bureaucracy, Mix of Anime and Manga, Multi, Reincarnation, Unfortunately history is not that different and much historical nastiness remains extant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23669869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HybrisAnaideia/pseuds/HybrisAnaideia
Summary: Imperfect knowledge and imperfect plans are all you have, but you aim to live as best you can anyways. Perhaps the things we lose to the sands might come back again someday.
Series: Collection of Papyri [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765264
Comments: 96
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all can blame Aisling again for this existing outside my head, instead of continuing to brew inside my skull for more years
> 
> I _have_ done a decent amount of research into Ancient Egypt in the name of this fic, but 1. I am not an Egyptologist 2. This is YGO Ancient Egypt, which means everything is already very historically inaccurate thanks to Actual Magic existing.

She came to consciousness floating in a strange place. It was warm here – perfectly dark and utterly silent – and she felt very comfortable. The problem was that she shouldn’t have regained consciousness; she’d died. It had been painful and slow, an accident, but there was no way she survived that.

_…Is this hell? Heaven should be brighter right?_

This place did not seem like any paradise or hell she had ever heard of in life. There was a very decisive lack of divine ecstasy or infernal torment going on to say the least. If anything, she supposed this might be Limbo, the waiting room for the dead.

“It could be, if you wish to remain here.”

What was that? It had been like someone spoke to her, but in her head…and with more than just words or thought. Every word vibrated with emotion and with many things beyond her grasp or ability to articulate, yet she still knew that they existed in spite of her limitations. She’d never understood what synesthesia must be like for those that had it; until now at least.

“But you could try again.”

Was the voice female, male, or neither? Something about it struck a feminine chord, but like its words, it was just _more_. It was frustrating how it defied any attempt to meaningfully describe it, and she knew her frustration amused the voice because of the emotion embedded in the words.

“Well? Would you prefer to sleep on, or would you like to try again?”

She thought about it. Her life had not been terrible, yet she had been dissatisfied with how it had ended. All that effort and time wasted with how her death had come before she could achieve her goals. Her family, her friends…

_Yes. I would like to try again._

Even if she merely had a miraculous survival of the accident instead of reliving her life, she would be happy to take it.

“Then I take your name as a tribute. Live again, and live as gloriously as you can.”

_My name? What? Why would you-_

* * *

She had no idea how much time had passed when she was shocked awake, but she could have gone forever without the onset of the cacophonous _racket._ The warm darkness had been perfectly silent before she had lost consciousness, yet now it was as loud as it would be if she was standing next to the speakers at a death metal concert. If she was still alive, she’d probably have gone deaf from this. But since she wasn’t alive, and she apparently couldn’t lose her hearing from this, she just felt very, very annoyed.

There was the constant thundering sound of drums, drums so large she would think them to be the size of mountains. Accompanying the mountain drums was the constant roaring of something like seismograph-to-aural audio, and to top off this hell of sound was the meaty _squishing_. All of this combined into a uniquely traumatizing din; it was to the point that if she could, she’d happily never hear ever again.

_Why is this happening?! Make it stop!_

Unfortunately, no amount of pleading, demanding, or desperate threats made so much as a dint in the sounds that filled this place. She could not go deaf or stopper her ears, and she could not escape to a place without the sound. But she guessed that she proved that humans really were able to adapt to anything if they had to; she was able to fall back into unconsciousness soon enough.

Periodically she would awaken again, only to find this place continued to change. It never returned to the dearly missed silence, unfortunately, though the lack of light remained consistent. The real issue was that she had the sneaking suspicion that this place was gradually shrinking. She still felt like she was afloat in this place, yet if it had once been an ocean it definitely was becoming something like an inland sea.

Eventually, she woke up to find that the space had lost all of its expansiveness. Now it was like her soul had been wrapped in too-tight latex, clinging to her with revolting stickiness. She panicked at the sensation, trying to stretch it out and away from her body, but nothing she did had any effect. Like trying to make a dent in a rubber ball, it would spring back into place the moment she quit applying pressure from exhaustion.

Unable to change her situation, she was forced to rely on what little she could recall of meditative techniques to try and calm herself. _Let it all fade away… Think of what pattern you want to use…_ She selected a mandala pattern to hold in her mind as she began to slowly fill it with colored glass. She imagined pouring the glass into the mould, smoothing it of bubbles, and occasionally removing a dissatisfactory result.

As someone who was not very artistic, this took a great deal of concentration to consistently visualize; there was nothing left with which to pay attention to her surroundings. The feeling of panic faded away into nothing as she concentrated on executing her plan, and when the stained glass window was complete in her mind, she found herself calm enough to drift off once more.

_Just…ignore everything else then._

* * *

She distinctly remembered that she had decided she would ignore everything about her changing environment as much as possible. It would only depress and upset her if she continued to pay attention to the claustrophobic surroundings, so she had turned her mind to anything else that could absorb her attention. But she obviously hadn’t realized just how much worse it could get.

It was impossible to ignore her surroundings when the cramped space had changed into a black hole that was trying to draw her through the event horizon. Spaghettification was a singularly awful thing to experience, as it seemed to drag on endlessly without any meaningful change. She was elongating, crushed into jelly, all while something was sucking at her like a vacuum from hell.

_This is torture!_

Please let whatever this was end, or let her escape to unconsciousness, because she had no idea how she could remain sane if this was to become her new constant.

Thankfully, it did change. The black hole won, sucking her completely through its sucking, crushing vice grip, and she came out on the other side to find there was yet more madness to be suffered. There was no darkness anymore, no comfort at all. Now there was agonizing brilliance, her body was distressingly cold, and she could hear the wails of a baby intertwine with the keening screams of a woman.

The sensations bombarding her were overwhelming, to the point that no amount of self-discipline could help. All she wanted to do was to go back, back to when the comforting darkness was quiet and spacious.

_When will it end?_

The answer to her question came almost immediately, as she began to feel like she was suffocating. It was so shocking to feel it that she didn’t feel afraid of oxygen deprivation. She was dead, she hadn’t been returned to life despite that strange encounter she could barely remember.

…Right?

But before she could even consider that shocking idea seriously, or give her burning (possibly imaginary) lungs a thought, she felt something around her. It felt like liquid, and somehow, she knew to describe it as a dark, thick, and syrupy liquid. But it also felt like there was a thin, runny, rainbow film of oil stretched tightly across the surface of the dark liquid, as she had seen on gasoline tainted puddles of water.

Was she underwater then, if there was this strange liquid surrounding her? She had no idea if she was, or even if she was alive again. But it _felt_ like she was trapped underwater, it _felt_ like her lungs were burning for air. So, she followed her instincts; she clawed forwards, kicking, trying to head upwards so she could breathe before the air in her lungs ran out.

It terrified her into almost screaming when something gigantic grabbed onto her right leg, pulling her downwards while flipping her upside-down. Only her experience telling her she would drown if she inhaled to scream kept her from following that instinct. Futilely she tried to escape whatever creature had grabbed onto her, left leg trying to kick its appendage away from her right leg as arms flailed in search of something to hit. _I’m running out of air_ , was her last, hysterically terrified thought as the brightness of this watery hell started to darken with spots in a way she knew was bad.

But just as she thought that something struck her ass so harshly her instinct to scream bypassed any attempt to stop it… and the liquid rushed down her throat in her inhale. Choking, gagging, coughing, she suffocated in the liquid. She could feel her lungs filling to the brim with its oil-tainted syrup, pressing against the sacs until it felt like they would burst apart in her chest. And then the liquid vanished as if it had never been there to begin with.

The world went dark.

* * *

It takes time to recover from that day’s trauma, and more time to stop falling asleep long enough to think coherently. Before she hit whatever arbitrary point it was, any attempt to really think would send her right back into unconsciousness. However, she doesn’t put the traumatic events together until her sight gets better enough to make out things beyond light and indistinct shapes.

Though, to be fair, she doesn’t think those series of events would have made anyone think they were in the process of very literally being reborn. The fact she had some rude woman’s face nearly shoved into hers, along with the carrying she was finally awake for, put it into perspective for her. She was a baby, a very _young_ baby.

_…Reincarnation? I’ve reincarnated?_

It was mind-blowing that all of this had been because she’d been reincarnated with full awareness. She couldn’t even react as the woman carefully deposited her into a little bathing tub, she was so shocked. The tub looked like it was either made of bronze or copper, and it seemed to be hand made since even her terrible vision could pick up certain flaws no machine-made product would have.

Soon enough the woman helped her into a sitting position to wash her, which allowed her to get a glimpse of her reflection. The image is poor, as water is not nearly as reflective as even the crappiest mirror, but the shocked baby in the water is positively _unnatural_.

Her eyes are a luminous, electric cyan color, and her hair is utterly ridiculous; it looks like someone stuck her fingers in an electrical socket until it formed the star shape it holds. And she knows very well they hadn’t, because she definitely would have remembered more pain. Tri-colored and heavily styled, she wondered which culture would go to the extravagance of doing this to a _baby’s_ hair. Though, was it even normal for a baby to have enough hair to hold such an elaborate hairstyle?

Careful fingers scrubbed her hair and scalp before washing out the soaps, and she was baffled to see that her hair seemed to be…naturally holding the shape. It didn’t make sense. She’d just watched and felt how thoroughly her hair was washed, there was no way any product could have kept it in such an elaborate shape. Yet the more she stared at her reflection in confusion, the nagging sensation that something was familiar about her hair grew and grew.

Glaring at the silvery-blue lightning bolts that dare to call themselves her bangs and the black spikes tipped in dark cyan, she smacked the water to disrupt her reflection; she’s had enough of seeing this nonsense.

Her action, however, seems to surprise and delight the woman. Her tone is bright and elevated as she speaks quickly, and she even places one disturbingly large palm on her tiny baby arm to carefully make it splash the water again.

_What the hell is she doing?_

The woman’s tone gained urgency to it the longer she didn’t, presumably, splash the water. She kept repeating the word “Nebthet” as she tried to coax her, and she wondered if that was her name. If so, it didn’t sound like it belonged to any Eurasic culture she could think of.

Slowly the woman picked up her arm again, as her tone slid towards disappointment and grief, and gently splashed the water. Her heart wasn’t in the action this time like she had somehow snatched away her hopes. She considered what the reason for this disappointment could be, before the idea came to her.

_I’m not acting like a baby…Right? Or at least a healthy one. I’ve been sleeping constantly, not doing anything a baby is supposed to do…I don’t actually know what constitutes healthy baby behavior, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t it. Shit, have I made them think I’m vegetative or something?_

Making a snap decision as the woman finally let her arm go, she made her unwieldy baby muscles move and smacked the water again. She did it three more times to the rapturous joy of the woman, which really alarmed her at what her family must think. The woman kept repeating the word “Nebthet,” cooing it as giant hands gently stroked her back in a petting motion, to the point she was fairly sure this was to be her new name.

Nebthet feels her baby eyes watering as it settles in that she had lost everything that had belonged to [__]. She would cry today, but she had to move on just as her family and friends had to. After that, no more tears for her old life.

She was Nebthet now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a handy-dandy visual reference as to what the coloration is for Nebthet's hair and eyes, it's all on a cyan color scale.  
> Bangs: Hex- effffd. Red-239, Green-255, Blue-253  
> Eyes: Hex- 00fff0. Red-0, Green-255, Blue-240  
> Hair Tips: Hex- 00b29c. Red-0, Green-178, Blue-156


	2. Chapter 2

Nebthet had never really put much thought into it before, but if she’d had to give an answer she would have said something along the lines that people naturally didn’t remember being a baby because it was pretty boring. As it turned out, it was not only boring but very, very frustrating. Nebthet’s body feels like a strange, alien thing while she’s an infant. Intellectually she knows this is exactly the case – that was reincarnation for you – but her mind cannot grasp how much effort is needed to make her damn _fingers_ respond to her. Like, was it this hard for her when she was an actual baby? Was this normal for a baby body, and she was just expecting too much?

At least as time went by, and she worked on familiarizing herself with her body, it became easier. Her eyes continued to improve, her motor control and reflexes began to exist, and she could try to repeat words the woman said. Never would she have thought being able to crawl and stand upright was a moment of profound triumph, as she’d been able-bodied, but it certainly was on the day she managed to do so in this body. 

If she could have, she would have thrown a party when she finally graduated to being able to walk.

Her progress delighted the woman – “Hui,” as she figured out after a Tarzan-Jane moment – and Nebthet devoted herself to learning how to speak properly. Now that she could walk around the small, one-room building, she had so many questions for Hui. Why did they never leave this building? Why was it built so roughly, and with what she would swear was mud-brick? Why did nothing seem to be made using modern manufacturing? Why was Hui dressed like that?

Yet for all that Nebthet wished they would leave the room, at least for the variety, having absolutely nothing else to do meant the only thing to entertain her was learning her new native language. It was the most intense kind of immersion learning, as she had no other language with which to communicate with Hui. Every day, all day, they would only speak whatever this language was. But Nebthet was feeling like she’d grasped the basics of the verbal part of the language within what she guessed were a few months. 

Hui seemed to alternate between awe and shock at her progress, and Nebthet knew she was likely blasting whatever developmental markers were supposed to be happening out of the water. However, there wasn’t really any way for her to try and conform to whatever baby development was supposed to be; she didn’t know anything beyond some infant basics. Even if she had known more about infants, she didn’t know how old she was or even why they never left the building. It was better to show herself to be even more unnatural than her hair, and learn how to get information, than to just wait around in hopes it was matching whatever normal babies did.

By the time Nebthet was conversant however, she quickly found out several very upsetting things in succession. She was not in the modern world, Hui was her wetnurse-slash-nanny instead of her mother, and she was apparently royalty in a time where it counted for something. Nebthet was tempted to throw a royal tantrum when Hui began to teach her what was unmistakably _hieroglyphics._

 _Egypt!_ **_Ancient_ ** _Egypt, of all places! How far back are we?! Shit, is it one of the Intermediate Periods? Or when Rome stuck its fat nose in?_

The silver lining in finding out she had been reincarnated in a time so far from her own, however, was that it was Egypt she had been reincarnated in; or rather, as it was called in this time, Kemet. As a woman who had been born with a female body again, there was absolutely nowhere else she would pick to incarnate during ancient times. Kemet was unique in that, as far as she could remember, it held women to be the legal equals of men in pretty much everything but the distribution of occupations. 

Even that sticking point was made murky by two facts. First, most people would functionally be their same-gender parent’s apprentice; thus you generally did whatever your parent would do, unless your talent or circumstances enabled you to do otherwise (if that’s what you wanted.) And secondly, there were no _legal_ barriers to women being scribes, doctors, priestesses, or officials. There had been substantial records of women in each job, and often in very high positions of power.

_And to think they once said my intense Egyptology phase would be useless to someone who wasn’t planning on being an Egyptologist!_

Of course, this all depended on when in Kemet’s very, very long history they were. The worst times were under the Romans and the Intermediate periods, along with the couple of times Kemet had been ruled by invaders. Unfortunately, you generally had to judge each dynasty on its own; some were very nice, so long as you weren’t in the tail end of their decline, and some were disastrous. Trying to find out a coherent way to figure this out with her developing language skills, however, was a challenge. 

She settled with a number of landmarks that, probably, any citizen educated enough to be able to teach her hieroglyphics should know, as well as two very noticeable introductions: the chariot, and iron. A precious piece of sooty wood – normally used for her painful writing lessons – was sacrificed in the attempt to express what she was trying to ask Hui about. Nebthet worked her way through her list, getting more nervous with each baffled assertion that there was no such thing in Kemet. According to Hui, there was no Ramesseum, no Karnak, no Pyramids, and no Sphinx. She did not recognize the rough drawing of a horse pulling a chariot with an archer on it, and Hui didn’t know of a metal “colored like ash.”

“Your Highness, did you dream of these things? Building with stone… You must have been dreaming of the lands of the gods.” 

_Shit, definitely Old Kingdom then._ **_Early_ ** _Old Kingdom at minimum if we haven’t begun using stone as a building material._

At least she was very definitely before the Intermediate periods, the invasions, and the Romans. It was a silver lining Nebthet would take as a consolation prize.

* * *

The next time Nebthet went to sleep, there was no peaceful oblivion waiting for her. 

Normally she did not dream. Or if she did, she was very rarely able to recall her dreams in any capacity. Nebthet simply ceased to exist until she woke up; like she had not really gone to bed at all. 

This absolutely was not the case for tonight. One moment she was sleeping in her crib, and the next she was standing in a place that seemed to be made of ever-shifting purple-black shadow. Fitting the setting, the atmospheric light was quite low. It was as if it was perpetually twilight here. 

“You’ve finally matured enough to come here, I see.”

The voice came from behind her, and when she turned around to see who was speaking, Nebthet got another shock: it was a robot. Though as she took in more details of the exquisitely made being, she noted how it seemed to have so many threads radiating out from its back that it had the appearance of wings. _Perhaps it's an extremely mechanized marionette, instead of an outright robot…_

“Who are you? Or would it be rude to ask “what” are you?”

Its face did not move from the expression of “peaceful sleep,” and Nebthet suspected it could not as it began to move like an animated character: body language did the talking so the face didn’t have to. Yet, as it raises a hand to its unmoving face like it was hiding a smile, she had to wonder if the exaggerated display was honest at all.

“I am El Shaddoll Construct, your Ka Spirit. And it would have been rude if you weren’t contacting me so precariously soon, and before you got so much as a drop of education in magic.”

Why did this all sound familiar?

“Magic? El Shaddoll Construct, what do you mean by magical edu-”

Snapping awake at Hui’s shaking, Nebthet grumbled to herself as she pinpointed what had sounded so familiar. There had been some sort of papyrus scroll about a man conversing with his Ka, but… She had a feeling her Ka wasn’t talking because of anything as benign as what she vaguely remembered that man’s Ka had been after.

* * *

Hui was a well-educated woman, having come from two scribes’ household before entering the service of Hathor. She was completely literate in hieroglyphs and hieratic, could discuss just about any piece of theology relating to Hathor at a very philosophical level, and knew how to run a decent-sized temple. 

However, as Nebthet found, this education did not extend to history. 

She could not tell her how many Kings – Pharaoh was a title that wouldn’t be invented until the New Kingdom – had reigned in this dynasty, or how many dynasties there had been. What Hui knew of was the part of history she had lived through, but that included only a very limited portion of what had been going on at a national level before they had entered this building. _Still haven’t figured out how to get an answer on why we’re stuck in here,_ Nebthet thought in irritation. 

So without an ability to further date when she resided, beyond “very early Old Kingdom”, Nebthet could only rely on Hui to fend off the boredom of being a very young child enclosed in a small building. This meant she spent her days further improving on her writing (without a drop of artistic talent, hieroglyphs and hieratic were tears inducing), and learning the basics of estate management. Nebthet had only gotten a small amount of theology, despite her curiosity. Hui claimed that as one dedicated to the goddess Nebthet, the one Princess Nebthet should devote her energies to was the goddess instead of Hathor. And since Hui was not initiated in the deeper mysteries of the goddess Nebthet, that topic was closed to her. 

“Princess, you have been appointed head priestess of a temple in a state of disrepair. You have three priestesses subordinate to you, and you are in charge of caring for the one god at this temple…” 

It was easy to admit she preferred lessons on estate management. Nebthet found the challenge of it a welcome intellectual stimulant, as she tried to get an understanding of how she’d need to run a temple. There were so many factors to keep in mind! Particularly the theological aspects, as Nebthet admitted she had a tendency to fail Hui’s exercises by forgetting to attend to the religious needs in favor of practicalities. _You’d think it’d be fine to quit with the offerings and such in order to focus on growing your own crops in hard times, but no “that is the spiritual death of a temple, despite their lives continuing on.”_

If she really was a princess, as Hui insisted, she would have to keep a better eye on the religious aspect of life in these times. Religion itself was not the enemy, but the priesthood had been a lethally recurring issue for Kemet.

“What happens if you add in taxes? This setting has enough land that it should be taxed by the King, right?”

Hui looked startled at the suggestion, but gamely considered it. “Well, for this scenario, taxes are too much for the temple. You cannot get it prosperous enough in the time frame you have to be able to pay your taxes.”

Nebthet hadn’t been a tax accountant. She’d always gotten someone to handle her taxes for her, after she’d royally screwed up on TurboTax the one time she tried it. But she was pretty sure that there should be tax codes in place to allow a struggling temple to pay without destroying itself. Nebthet gave Hui a dubious look, wondering if this was another thing the priestess wasn’t very educated on. 

_Hadn’t most of the larger sects been heavily tax exempt in many periods of Egyptian history?_ That was one of the major problems regarding the priesthood she remembered. So if it was already implemented at this time, it made sense Hui wouldn’t know much about it. _But I have bigger fish to fry. If I_ **_am_ ** _a princess, before I can even think about the problems the priests might give me... I might be screwed with a dynastic marriage to a sibling of mine._

Nebthet really did need to find a way to get out of this building soon. For all that Hui could distract and teach her, there was only so much uncertainty she could take. Being ignorant of her surroundings and circumstances meant she couldn’t plan, and acting without a plan was asking to get hit with consequences you didn’t want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to put notes about random Egypt research/facts I write into the story at the end of a chapter!
> 
> 1\. Egypt isn't the historical name of the nation. It's the result of a historical "telephone game" from what the Greeks called it. The actual name that Ancient Egyptians would have called it is Kemet, or "Black Land." I'll be going back and forth between the two names since "Egypt" is a easy catch all for the entire history of the nation and Kemet is the actual nation Nebthet lives in.  
> 2\. Yes, Egypt is historically attested to be THE place to live if you were female; having legal rights is nice. This is not something I made up, and is thanks to how it's literally part of their religion that men and women are equals.  
> 3\. The monuments and temples Nebthet tried to use as dates rooooughly corresponds to New, Middle, and Old Kingdom. Iron and Chariots would have helped to narrow a more precise picture if they were...a thing.  
> 4\. The papyrus mentioned is "Conversation between a man and his Ka." The Ka is trying to talk the man out of suicide.  
> 5\. Sibling incest inevitably comes up with Egyptian royals, but it was only done by the royals. It was restricted to the royal family as the theological reason is to "keep the blood pure and divine." On a more practical level (and likely why it became so common) it literally keeps power concentrated in the family by not leaving "Great Royal Wife/Queen" open to outside influences. There's also the idea that your sister will automatically have affection and loyalty to you, thus reducing possible infighting and usurpation attempts.


	3. Chapter 3

Hui was sick. She coughed, had a runny nose and a high temperature, and didn’t have any energy. Nebthet was pretty sure it was some sort of flu, as she recognized the symptoms from when she had been previously alive. But this wasn’t the modern era, and she knew neither of them were vaccinated nor had access to medical care. 

_It’s more likely to wind up being lethal to young children, isn’t it?_ But that applied to pretty much every virus and disease out there, so it didn’t have any use beyond adding to her worry.

“Hui, what should I do? How do you get what we need?”

“Princess… you need to go to the door and-” She broke into a coughing fit before continuing, “-And tell the priest outside I’m ill. He will take care of-” More coughing, and this time it was with such vigor that Nebthet wished she could offer Hui some water; but they’d already run out of it thanks to her illness.

 _There’s no telling when I’ll grow too sick to help Hui any more… It’s already a miracle I haven’t begun to show symptoms yet._ Nebthet’s mind continued to spin through thoughts of how they could handle this crisis as she made her way to the door Hui had previously guarded like a dragon. She had been in this small building for a long, long time without ever seeing the outside. If she had been a real child, it might have frightened her to consider leaving the tiny world she had grown up in. 

But really, she was sick of this tiny building that Hui kept her in.

“Priest? Priest, are you there?” She knocked against the wooden door, after she’d proven too weak to move the door. 

She could hear something fall to the floor as sudden scuffling happened, like she’d startled the priest into knocking something over as he stood up. “...Your Highness?”

The man’s voice was incredulous but very low and mellow, the kind of voice you’d happily listen to if he was the one giving sermons; too bad the Egyptian priesthood didn’t do sermons. “Yes. Hui is sick, she cannot get up from bed. We need more water and food, and a doctor for Hui. I’m healthy for now, but we need a doctor before I get sick as well.”

The priest was silent for a good minute, before he slowly asked, “...You’re healthy, Your Highness?” 

Nebthet could understand the shock. After all, as a very small child she naturally should have sickened before Hui. “Yes, for now.” 

“I will fetch more supplies for you both, and see what I can do about getting a doctor to see Priestess Hui.”

At least that was something, even if he hadn’t promised to bring a doctor to Hui. “Priest, what is your name?”

“My name is Sabni, Your Highness. I will be departing now.”

She’d keep it in mind. If she was lucky, perhaps Sabni might let it slip why she’d been living like this. 

* * *

In spite of everything she knew, Nebthet did not get so much as a sniffle from Hui’s flu. She remained perfectly healthy despite helping care for Hui; as much as she could at least, since a toddler body didn’t have much strength or endurance.

“Priest Sabni, I have the laundry for you.”

“Please step back Your Highness, so I may open the door.” 

For an adult man in decent health, it seemed to be no problem to open the wooden door she was unable to budge. And though she had grown used to how Sabni, shockingly, had his own head of hair… it still struck her as odd. Hui took care to keep her scalp shaved when she was well, so it wasn’t like the priests had entirely decided to forgo that aspect.

“Your Highness, how is Priestess Hui?”

“She’s recovering well. I don’t think she’ll need to see the doctor again if she continues like this.”

He took the laundry basket without stepping foot inside, as he categorically refused to do no matter how she made it clear he was welcome, and gave her another one of those evaluating looks. “And you, Your Highness?”

“Not a sign of illness Priest Sabni.” 

There was something about the way he asked that, the way he looked at her so assessingly, that screamed he was looking for something other than mere illness. But what was it? Genetic deformities? Madness? Clothes?

_If it seriously is clothes, it’s not like I have any besides the shendyt. And I’m on a limited supply of them! It’s like Hui expects me to just run around naked..._

“That’s… good, Your Highness. Now do you need anything else before I depart?”

She could do with loads of things like, for example, some damn freedom. But Nebthet knew there were definitely limits as to what Sabni might be willing to do for her. “Scrolls? I’d like reading material and a new way to practice my literacy.”

Sabni had a complicated look on his face as he said “I think I can manage that Your Highness. Please be patient in the meantime.”

* * *

As Nebthet awoke in that shadowy realm again, she wondered if there was a trigger for its sudden appearance. Trying to compare the days before the dreaming seemed to suggest that learning new, important information was part of it. She had managed to roughly pinpoint what era of Kemet she had been born into, and had found that no matter how long she was around a highly infectious person she would not sicken.

“It’s no wonder that **I** am your reflection. Your mind is always threading together things into an intricate web of cause and effect, all the better with which to manipulate the pattern of the greater whole.”

Nebthet wondered if it was always going to insist on appearing behind her. The first time had been cliche enough. 

“Yes, it’s good to see you as well El Shaddoll Construct.”

The sarcasm bounced off the mechanized marionette like she’d never said a word. “Don’t be so formal! After all, we will be together for the rest of your life; call me Construct. And it’s so entertaining to watch you think yourself into knots about everything you encounter, that I felt generous enough to enlighten you.” 

Nebthet gamely turned around to face the marionette at that. She was always willing to get more information on her situation, especially with the fact she would likely never again see the easy access of information the internet provided. And if the information provided was valuable, Nebthet wouldn’t bring up its affection for appearing behind her. For now at least.

“You’re confused by how you completely shrugged off that infectious illness. There’s no vaccines here, little medical care, and you _had_ to be around the stricken priestess constantly. But! Have you ever stopped to think about the fact that the water that you drink is unfiltered, unboiled, untreated water?”

_No, because if I did I’d hurl. We don’t have the fuel or ventilation to try boiling anything, and by the time I realized it and the fact I’d been drinking and bathing in that kind of water… Way, way too late to do much about it._

“Never fear, because you’ll never, ever have to worry about parasites or any kind of diseases. Your magic is antithetical to existence, and even viruses are a natural part of your world.”

Okay, there was definitely no way she could bring up Construct’s weird hobby now. Assuming this information was true of course. 

“Are there any limits to this… protection, Construct?”

The marionette leaned forward, as if to give her a secretive smile; its face remained unchanged however. “This doesn’t make you immune to poison or venom. A bit more resistant, maybe, but you’re rolling the dice there.”

_But why doesn’t it protect against poison or venom then? If it’s antithetical to existence, then shouldn’t it destroy those as well? And how am I continuing to exist if, again, it’s hostile to things that naturally exist?_

“Thank you for taking some weight off my mind then. Now, can you explain more about this magic-”

Blinking her eyes open, Nebthet sighed. It seemed like the marionette was going to boot her out of the dream if she pushed, but she’d only know for certain if this happened a third time.

 _I miss being able to search the internet_ **_so_ ** _badly._

* * *

“Hui, is this a new hieroglyph or did the scribe have bad calligraphy?”

Passing on the scroll to Hui, Nebthet was pleased to see that Hui still showed no signs of relapsing. Considering the times they were in, it was very impressive she’d bounced back so well from a strong case of the flu. _But it helps that I was able to keep helping her with Sabni’s supplies, without getting sick._

Hui had treated her health as a matter of fact when she’d recovered from her low fever. It had been surprising that the woman had outright assumed she wouldn’t be harmed, but the explanation had not been remotely reassuring. _Divine protection my ass. If I had any sort of holy power or credit with my patron goddess, I’d be out of this tiny building. Or if I knew what Construct meant by “my magic.”_

Nebthet startled at the brisk knocking against the door, turning to look at the thing with what she knew was a shocked look. It had never been knocked on in her memory. Hui, or very recently Nebthet, would call out to Sabni on the other side of the door. Sabni had only begun to call out to them when Hui got sick, since Nebthet needed to come to the door to get the things he’d brought them.

Hui went to the door, but before she could open it herself the door was opened. Standing there was a man Nebthet had never seen before, who had his head shaved bald, dressed in white, and he wore the whole pelt of a leopard slung across him like a cape. _Weren’t those pelts for a certain kind of priest? Something about animal skins usually not being considered ritually pure…_

The priest did not come in, but instead seemed to be content to stand at their threshold and stare into the air. Hui did not say anything or disturb him as he continued to pretend to be a statue for several minutes. It was very awkward in Nebthet’s eyes, since were they _supposed_ to ignore the strange priest and go about their usual habits? Or should she take her cues from Hui and freeze in place?

Nebthet decided to play it cautiously and mimicked Hui’s stillness, and after five minutes of this the priest suddenly pronounced, “High Priest Sabni is correct. There is no lingering death around the princess, and I sense no curse on anyone in this building.” He then closed the door without so much as a word to Hui or her, which was just the crowning piece of rudeness.

_Wait, wait. Back up Nebthet. Sabni’s a goddamn High Priest? What the fuck is he doing here all day then?!_

The door opened again to show the very priest she was thinking of, looking pleased with himself. “Priestess Hui, you are to be rewarded for your service in caring for the Crown Princess; despite the curse that struck on Their Highnesses birth she has survived to become a healthy child.”

**_What?_ **

“Please use these things to prepare Her Highness to meet His Majesty.”

A servant, or possibly a lower ranked priest, entered the room with a plain wooden chest that had Hui straightening her back. “Princess, come here! We need to get you ready!”

Hui didn’t wait for her to actually walk over, descending on her in a frenzy of activity that Nebthet had never seen from the woman before. She removed her current shendyt to exchange it for one made of _much_ finer and whiter cloth, tutting about not having enough to put her in a dress, before beginning to drape Nebthet in child-sized jewelry. There were gold bangles, armlets, and anklets, but the fanciest piece was the wide golden collar inlaid with what she suspected was lapis lazuli; the glimmering golden specs in the vivid blue were a large hint.

As Hui began to fuss over her unnatural hair and her makeup, Nebthet took the moment of pause in Hurricane Hui’s momentum to think over the sudden onset of revelations. 

_They thought I was cursed? No, they must have_ **_known_ ** _that I was, regardless of how accurate that knowledge was, and that’s why we were isolated in this tiny building. They were waiting for me to die, weren’t they? And my excellent health, especially in the face of Hui’s illness, must have prompted them to reconsider that mindset…_

It was good to know that her casual attempts to cultivate a closer relationship with Sabni had born very profitable fruit. But there was no chance to feel smug over that when her mind immediately latched onto the new, very pressing change in her status.

_Fuck. I’m not apparently just a legitimate princess, but a Crown Princess. The chances of me being engaged to a sibling just skyrocketed into the stratosphere. Damnnit, is there a way to get out of it if I am?_

“There! You finally look as befitting your station Princess. High Priest, we’re ready to proceed to His Majesty.”

Without more time to adapt, Nebthet found herself being swiftly led out into the bright light of day for the first time in this life that she could remember. It was bright enough to make her eyes water slightly, endangering the thick kohl Hui had traced onto her eyes. Thankfully her eyes adapted with unusual swiftness, saving her kohl, and Nebthet could take in the sights as they walked. 

The palace was very well kept, as to be expected, but after originally growing up with images of the New Kingdom’s stone palaces it didn’t impress Nebthet. She would praise the colorful decorative art, as there was precious little of it that had survived in her first life, but Nebthet couldn’t help but find the palace lacking in the grandeur she had subconsciously been expecting from Kemet. _I’d known they hadn’t begun building in stone yet, but I guess I was expecting it anyways._

Sabni led them first through a columned hall that seemed to feed into what she presumed was the throne room. The decoration and attention to detail was much more lavish here, as it was designed to impress upon anyone who entered the glorious might and divinity of the King of Kemet before they even reached the raised dais at the very end of the room. Nebthet wished she had the time to stop and admire the artistry on display here, but Sabni didn’t pause.

As Sabni led them to the foot of the dais, he immediately sank to one knee along with Hui. Nebthet, however, did not. She was Crown Princess, freshly reinstated to the position and all its weight; even if this man, her father and King, had been fine with leaving her to die in a tiny building unbefitting her status. There would be no kneeling unless she was ordered to do so, since she could genuinely claim to not know the protocol was; and because to kneel without thought or hesitation was to show she didn’t have that thing called “Royal Pride” that would mark her as “true royalty.” 

Nebthet kept her expression controlled into a blank facade as she finally got a good look at the man in question. He was dignified in appearance, yet it was very shocking to see with a full, natural beard with no sign of the traditional false-beard anywhere. He seemed to favor the classic nemes headdress and a conservative manner of dressing, which only made the gigantic, solid gold inverted pyramid all the more eye-catching. 

_Is that the fucking_ **_Millenium Puzzle?!_ **


	4. Chapter 4

There was no doubting that King Akhenamkhanen’s golden Pendant was what Nebthet had once seen on a television screen many years ago as the Millennium Puzzle. It was unmistakably distinct in appearance. And the man standing at her father’s side, that was introduced to her as her uncle - High Priest Akhenaden - also had the Millennium Eye in place of his left eye. One potential Item could have been merely bizarre coincidence, but more than one Item? The evidence was fairly undeniable that she had somehow incarnated not only sometime in the Old Kingdom, but into Yu-Gi-Oh to boot. 

_It_ **_does_ ** _vaguely explain Construct and its mention of magic…_

But in the week since her introduction to her indifferent father and cold-seeming uncle, Nebthet had been unable to gather more information. Someone had apparently decided that, as she had been raised in a tiny hovel, she was in dire need of tutelage. Which wasn’t inaccurate! It just was incredibly obvious no one had thought to ask Hui if she had bothered to do anything but ensure Nebthet didn’t die. 

The fact she had been only given a number of handmaidens to begin teaching her how to dress, an etiquette instructor, and one middle aged scribe who looked very aggravated to be assigned to teaching a child proper speech and beginning literacy, said that no one had investigated at all. _I already know how to speak and write fairly fluently. I doubt I’m as good as a professional scribe, but I know I’m far above learning what my basic hieroglyphs look like!_

Her week since achieving freedom from the tiny room she had lived in, had thus been spent on trying to prove and persuade the few tutors she had been given that she was more than capable of handling more. The handmaidens had adjusted best to her unnatural maturity, or perhaps they didn’t feel like they could refuse her, and so Nebthet learned eagerly from them. 

Part of being royalty was presentation, and knowing if you were conveying messages via your clothing or overall dress. The average farmer wouldn’t know the difference what certain weaves of linen and fabric fineness could convey, but the priests, nobles, and court officials _would._ Favor to certain regions could be implied merely by what she wore, just as how she could demonstrate someone had fallen from grace via her apparel. There was also the fact it was important to project the image that the kingdom remained rich and powerful to reassure their subjects. All these things were part of the reason why the later, European aristocrats had been so incredibly fussy about their fabrics, laces, and fashions even in the most inappropriate times; Nebthet could only give thanks that Kemet would never descend into that kind of fashion-centric hell. 

And while her etiquette training was going tolerably well, there was one true sticking point: the scribe. It was going poorly with her tutor in literacy because the man refused to contemplate the notion she could already have learned the basics from Hui. Nebthet would sympathize more with his position if she hadn’t already demonstrated her proficiency several times to him, and if he didn’t quit shrugging off her requests for more tutors in general.

But the funny thing about being Crown Princess in an absolute monarchy, one that had also intertwined with their religion to become literal god-kings, was that almost no one out-ranked her. Not the handmaidens, not her tutors, not the servants, not Hui, and certainly not anyone one else she had seen since her father had dismissed her from his presence. And because she was not the child her body was, she couldn’t be bullied or coaxed into obeying. Which means that Scribe Menna could do nothing but follow behind her very anxiously as she wandered the palace.

If the scribe wouldn’t carry her requests to her father, or whoever was meant to be overseeing her education, Nebthet would find whomever it was and speak with them. Or, more likely, she was going to spend today working through a number of people to find out who was meant to be overseeing her and _then_ speak with them.

“Your Highness, you should return to your rooms quickly!”

Nebthet would argue that she’d really been assigned a wing of the palace, but that’d be acknowledging Menna existed. She wasn’t about to do that when he refused to listen to her. _Child or no child, I’m clearly beyond the basics! If he had just moved on so I could keep progressing we wouldn’t be here…_

She was just passing through a small courtyard with a lotus filled pond when a different voice rang out. “Princess, what are you doing roaming about at this time of day? You should be taking your midday meal.”

Nebthet turned to the cool voice, and found Akhenaden emerging from a shadowed corridor off of the courtyard. _Not the person I wanted to see, not at all._

The Eye was a problem, as even her faded memories of the show had been very clear on how it allowed for real-time mind reading just by looking at someone. As Nebthet had no idea if it was a skill of the Item that was constantly active, or needed to be purposefully triggered, she had been planning to try avoiding her uncle. One wrong thought in his presence could be disastrous if it really was something that was constantly active.

“High Priest, hello. I have been looking to speak to someone in order to find out who is overseeing my education.”

His face was as impassive as her own was, but his tone seemed to indicate some minor interest as he asked “Why do you wish to speak to them?” 

“Because they obviously did not bother to ask if Priestess Hui bothered to do anything besides keep me alive. I’ve memorized my basic hieratic and hieroglyphic, and High Priest Sabni was frequently bringing me scrolls to read while Priestess Hui was sick. I want to further my learning, and right now all that I am learning is of presentation and etiquette.”

Akhenaden looked at her like she was a dog who had surprised him with a clever trick he hadn’t taught it; surprised, but in a pleasant way. “And what of the scribe following behind you? Has he not been teaching you new things?”

Crossing her arms across her chest, Nebthet shook her head. “No. I have demonstrated I know the material he keeps setting before me, but refuses to consider advancing any further.”

The Eye gleamed coldly in the sun as he moved to look at the scribe behind her, “Then Princess, what exactly are you aiming for when you speak to the one who is meant to oversee your education?”

 _Don’t tell me that Akhenaden was the one…_ “I am Crown Princess. I should be trained according to my station, so I might better serve Kemet and my family. Priestess Hui did her best to begin teaching me estate management, but I aim for more. I want to understand our history, our relations with our neighbors, our economy, and how our family governs Kemet in order to be worthy of the blood in my veins.”

Her speech had been slightly dramatized for the benefit of her audience, and her motives were actually more self-focused than something as idealized of “earning my birthright,” but Akhenaden’s small, cold, and pleased smile told her it had been well received. Which part of it had pleased him most wasn’t certain, as Akhenaden’s facial control had remained impeccable, but at least it gave her more with which to work with on future encounters.

“I will speak with the King, Princess. If you truly desire to be a credit to our family, then prove your dedication to the new tutors that will be provided. Don’t disappoint us.”

With that he gestured for Menna to follow him as he walked back into the shadowed corridor, and as the sweating scribe passed by her Nebthet felt she had passed some sort of test. Whether or not that was a good thing… Only time would tell.

* * *

Over the next few months, Nebthet sometimes curses gaining Akhenaden’s attention. 

On one hand, the man delivered results. Menna was removed from his position, to be replaced with a curmudgeon of an older man - Kaaper - who felt secure enough to viciously berate her handwriting even as he continued to teach her more advanced literacy skills. New tutors in economics, diplomacy, law, estate management, geography, theology, Sumerian, and history were provided, with the promise of more waiting in the wings. Nebthet was now busy learning from sunrise to sunset, never having to worry about boredom.

On the other hand, the more she learned the more dismayed she felt. Ignorance could be pretty blissful when you weren’t aware of the bullshit around you. 

Nebthet had since learned she was three years old, almost four, and that she had an older twin brother named Atem. She was apparently engaged to him now, since she had survived the “curse.” Understandably, she wasn’t thrilled to learn that she really was expected to marry her sibling. But openly protesting it would get her nowhere at best, and possibly facing serious reprisals for questioning the will of the King.

She had then also found out when she was in Egypt, thanks to her new history instructor; even if a good portion of the time the history was just straight propaganda. As it turned out, she wasn’t even in the Old Kingdom. No, according to her history instructor’s lessons, she was instead in the _first_ dynasty. There had only been a handful of Kings after the unifying King Narmer - with no usurpation nor succession crisis to indicate they’d moved away from the first dynasty - which meant she was likely several centuries before the Old Kingdom period would happen. This meant she was completely in the dark on what was going on in Egypt at this time, as the Early Dynastic period had next to nothing that had survived the ages to be excavated and published for her to read up on. She was pretty sure the most she remembered was that they had a few names of Kings, but not enough to cover the entire period. 

But for now, diligently copying the sentence Kaaper wanted her to transcribe into hieratic onto a reused piece of papyrus, Nebthet tried to recall when it’d be expected for her to marry the brother she’d yet to meet. _Fourteen maybe, or sixteen. Though twelve isn’t out of reach either, since Akhenamkhanen looked fairly old to just be having children. Everyone must be anxious about him dying when Atem is just a small child, and so will want and pressure for the line of succession to be secured quickly._

That was another thing she had been blissfully unaware of: the fact that she and Atem were the _only_ royal children. Akhenamkhanen apparently had been unusual for a King, refusing to take any consorts or concubines. Not even when it seemed as if Queen-Consort Berenib might be incapable of having children did he entertain the notion. _Yet two years after he received the “divine blessing” of the Items, Atem and I were born…_

The problem this presented however, was that she and her brother were irreplaceable. Akhenamkhanen had not taken any woman into his bed, let alone his harem, after Berenib had died in childbirth. There was no sister she could try to slide into her position as Atem’s betrothed, and there was no brother to replace Atem if some childhood illness or accident struck him down.

_The only way to completely assure I won’t be forced to marry my twin is to, somehow, run away. I’d have to leave Kemet entirely and try to make my way in Sumer, as the surrounding kingdoms hate us for my grandfather’s conquests… But, none of the Sumerian city-states hold a candle to how Kemet treats women…_

It was going to be a headache to try to come up with plans that would allow her to avoid marrying Atem without leaving Kemet. She had maybe as little as eight years to avoid it, all while learning everything she could… And there was the uncomfortable fact that it was possible it wasn’t feasible to avoid it. _If so, then I’ll need to start planning on how I want to ensure I’ve a solid grip on my brother-husband…_

“What a wretched display of hieratic! You are an utter disgrace Princess, one I would beat with reed switches if you were my apprentice! Is this the sacred gift of Thoth or the winding marks of a snake!? Do it again!”

_But for this hour, I should try to avoid getting cursed again as a “prideful, pompous chicken only good for the pot.”_

* * *

Nebthet first sees her brother, before she properly meets him. Atem is throwing a temper tantrum about “I want it now!” on the other side of the courtyard she had been reading her assigned scrolls in, while a woman who is either his attendant or wet-nurse hovers about him nervously. As he’s probably a genuine child it makes sense he fusses and throws tantrums. It’s still irritating enough however, that Nebthet gathers her scrolls and makes for her wing instead of staying.

The next time she sees Atem is at their birthday banquet, where she’s sat on her father’s left side. With the much closer proximity, his appearance is alarmingly familiar; it’s identical to what she remembers the protagonist’s hair looking like, unlike her own colors. _What does that mean for Atem though, if anything? The Spirit of the Puzzle looked like the protagonist because he had no identity right? It could just be genetics popping up over the millennia for all I know._

Red eyes glared at her suspiciously from underneath golden bangs, and Atem hugged onto Akhenamkhanen like he was thinking she was going to steal their father away. _Did… anyone even tell him I exist before this banquet?_

“Nebthet, demonstrate for me what you have been learning. Name the nomes and which part of Kemet they are situated in.”

Turning away from her twin, Nebthet looked at the man who sandwiched her between her father. An older looking, much shorter man - with a suspiciously golden ankh on a rope necklace - was standing next to Akhenaden with a dubious look on his face as he stared at her.

“Yes High Priest.” And vizier, which had been a shock to learn. “There are forty-two nomes. With Lower Kemet, there are twenty nomes to Upper Kemet’s twenty-two nomes. Starting with Lower Kemet, the twenty nomes are Inebu-hedj, Khepesh, Imentet…”

It got quieter around her as she continued to name the nomes, and by the time she had finished Nebthet was acutely aware her father, twin, and most of the nearby higher ranked officials were staring at her. However, as this right now was some sort of test combined with demonstration that the man who potentially can read minds orchestrated, Nebthet kept her attention on Akhenaden. 

The glint of satisfaction in his eye didn’t warm her, nor did hearing the words “You see Siamun? The Crown Princess is a promising child.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egyptian Notes:  
> 1\. No, I wasn't hand-waving the whole "presentation" stuff. It legitimately got exceedingly insane for European royalty, especially for the French just before Madame Guillotine. Of course, even in truly ancient times like in Hiraeth, presentation is a big damn deal for internal and external power.  
> 2\. You know what's a real pain in the ass to learn? There's next to no Egyptology stuff about how the government structure worked. Even when there is, it's just a mishmash of Old, Middle, &New Kingdom tossed into a blender and what you get is whatever floats to the top of the smoothie.  
> 3\. So far as my research has led me to understand, the "Early Dynastic" period is the one that has the least amount of surviving *anything* that we've discovered. We barely have a list of Kings, some stuff pertaining to them, and like...climatology and other assorted stuff from OTHER fields that can help to fill in the barebones outline of "why was there likely a power struggle in the historical 1st/2nd Dynasty".  
> 4\. We're in Ancient Egypt, so yes, the sibling-incest is a Thing along with potentially marrying incredibly young. Politics are such fun right?  
> 5\. The nomes of Ancient Egypt weren't actually called nomes, but it's the only way anyone will recognize them (or be able to look them up) if you aren't already hip deep into Ancient Egypt already.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time skip, and there's going to be more time skipping since slugging our way through Nebthet growing up will take forever. Y'all'd get bored. Also because writing an actual child (Atem, others to be introduced) is difficult without making them too mature.

Three years after the banquet that, in hindsight, had thrust her into contact with far more officials and nobles than any royal child rightfully should, Nebthet concluded she had something of a problem; she was collecting an entourage. Worse, she was quite sure her uncle was encouraging it. Nebthet’s biggest piece of evidence in her suspicions was the fact the priest-sorcerer who had been assigned to teach her the basic academic knowledge of magic just… wasn’t leaving. _And really, he should be. I’ve completed my basic education, and genuine sorcerers are more precious than silver. Harsiese seems to pack a magical punch, so he’s definitely not a nobody._

Last year had been the year her already backbreaking lesson load had been expanded with magical education, and confirmed for her that magic did exist. Outside of Construct’s claims while she dreamed, until that point there really hadn’t been any sign that magic truly was real. The Items existed of course, but they were anomalous and were _items;_ not a person who could shoot lightning from his hands like Harsiese could (if you gave him the time to build up the spell.)

Magic, as it was taught in Kemet, was considered to be a special gift from the god Heka. It could be used to cast spells and curses, enchant objects, and some of the more powerful sorcerers could branch into what Nebthet termed “alchemical creation.” _It’s just a shame I’ve next to no talent in magic! At most I can do a tiny charm to regulate the temperature around my body… Which isn't so bad as I’ll never need to worry about sweating or getting hypothermic._

Of course, the kind of magic that had had the most impact on her life so far are curses. Curses are a magic that is difficult to protect against and even worse to try and resolve. They could be insidious, vicious, and the most powerful were able to directly take the life of their targets. Even worse, unlike most magical feats, curses could be cast by those without so much as a bit of magical talent; all the caster needed was hatred and the power of sacrifice. 

And this very magic was why she had grown up in that tiny building, as Nebthet confirmed during her education. Harsiese had explained it when he had begun educating her on curses, using her situation as a teaching example in a stunning display of insensitivity. As he taught her, attempting to foil a curse was best done by “confusing” the magic as to what exactly it’s supposed to be targeting. Trying to directly attack the curse magically was incredibly dangerous, and only to be done either when one was supremely confident or had no other choice. This was because the sorcerer attempting to “countercurse” had to be able to bring more power to bear than the curse had powering it, or they too would become a victim to the curse.

So during Nebthet’s birth, while Great Royal Wife Berenib was dying of unnatural and agonizing hemorrhaging, a number of Kemet’s most powerful sorcerers were summoned to attempt to find and break the curse. Two sorcerers identified the curse as an incredibly strong death curse, meant to painfully kill its victim; they attempted to break it, as trying to confuse the magic would take time Berenib didn’t have. The curse then lashed out and killed them, proving that it was not a curse that could be broken by pure power. However, despite the dying Great Royal Wife, the surviving sorcerers identified that the curse was not reaching its conclusion. 

_Instead the curse swirled about me apparently, before dissipating and leaving behind some sort of palpable “death” that could be sensed by any sorcerer with a smidgen of power. Thus they concluded Berenib was collateral damage or an opportunistic target along the way to the real target: Atem. My brother just happened to be blessed with a twin, and twins are some of the easiest ways to confuse a curse. So instead of risking the smallest chance of the curse latching onto Atem, the King decided to limit the damage. My father then charged poor Hui with my health and well-being, on the pain of death should she fail, before locking us away in a sanctified area to prevent the Curse from finding Atem again. But my refusal to die, followed by the “blessing” indicated by how I’m apparently enough of a_ **_magician_ ** _to be immune to sickness… Meant they had to re-evaluate the situation instead of just waiting for me to drop dead from the Curse._

Staring at the insensitive man, Nebthet finished her recollection with the sour irritation brought on by the revelation she was already amassing the beginning of a power-base. 

Harsiese, as usual, was oblivious to anything that wasn’t magic. Instead of noticing her attention, he was instead contently writing down something on a papyrus scroll for the genius mage prodigy that had somehow been conned into becoming Atem’s ardent supporter. It was this exceedingly narrow focus that made him so insensitive, and left him disfavored despite his clear power and knowledge. _He was to be Atem’s magical tutor before the prodigy took on Atem… The idiot even told me himself, in the worst way possible. Harsiese even made it sound like someone was giving me Atem’s sloppy seconds._

Which, if she was a normal child, Nebthet was quite sure would have resulted in an ugly situation and the worsening of her relationship with her twin. As it was, Nebthet found Atem to be an unruly brat with a tyrannical temper. Ever since their official meeting at the banquet, Atem had often sought her out to try and assert his place over her; or to assert that he didn’t see her as a sister, and that he was Akhenamkhanen’s only true child. 

She mostly tried ignoring the later assertions, as Atem was an actual child; a sudden threat to his place in Akhenamkhanen’s heart naturally wouldn’t be taken well. The claims she wasn’t his sister had, however, tapered off ever since the mage prodigy had saved his life and become his constant companion. Even his temper was getting better, showing just how much of a positive influence the mage was. _Mahad still can’t stop Atem from running over and interrupting my lessons however. He’s a moderating influence, not a controlling one. Though I do wonder how Atem always finds time to try failing to get me to be obedient... But back to dealing with my budding problem._

As Crown Princess, it was natural and expected that she would cultivate her own favorites, allies, officials, and loyal servants. It would be a poor and ineffective royal who didn’t have an entourage of their own. However she hadn’t reached the age where she should be recruiting the beginnings of her entourage. Right now, Nebthet was still being educated in the critical fields that would give her the foundations of how to effectively manage a country. 

_I don’t have the time to cultivate a power-base yet! This is against my planning damnit!_ Her plan had been to begin her cultivating a power-base and curating a loyal and competent entourage shortly before she reached ten years old. By then, she would have finished off a few of her subjects and would have the time to begin working on this. 

Yet Harisese staying, treating this like a permanent posting, forced Nebthet to face the facts; she already had the beginnings of her own power-base. Hui managed her personal, and permanent, staff of handmaidens and servants; Kaaper, the crotchety old scribe, managed her small swarm of tutors, her scribes, the supplies needed for her education, and her official communications; Harisese would manage her magical affairs, protections, and help to connect her to the insular network of sorcerers. Nebthet, with the clarity of hindsight, even had begun to cultivate officials in the House of Double Silver; sorting out payment for Hui’s years of care, then her current salary, meant that finding and befriending competent officials in the treasury had been self-defense.

_It’s done though. Hell, I’ve even been meeting with various nobles and socializing. Sure it was at various state banquets, national festivals, and so on, but it’s the beginning to eventually working on a more formal level. Trying to backpedal would only look bad, and I’d lose all the momentum and capital I’ve built up already._

Nebthet bit back a groan as she realized her days were going to need even more rigorous planning, possibly even dropping some of the more extraneous lessons that Nebthet had been viewing as a reprieve from her busy days. Was this just the natural result of acting in an unchildlike manner? Or was it Akhenaden sending a subtle message, telling her that it was time to officially begin gathering people?

_Trying to guess that man’s thoughts isn’t worth wasting my time. He’s too powerful and too in control of his facial expressions for me to get an accurate read on him yet. For now, I probably should speak to Kaaper about acquiring a scribe or two from the treasury. I’m not going to have the time to compile my own household’s costs anymore at this rate…_

* * *

A few months into embracing the unwanted acceleration of her planning - and cutting out relaxing education like weaving - Nebthet had found that, to her surprise, she was not as overworked as she was before this. Her schedule still remained tightly budgeted by an aggravated Kaaper, as the old scribe was the only one with the guts to demand she stick to his planned day, but there was a welcome decrease in stress. 

It felt like a reminder that a successful administrator wasn’t one who could do everything. There was only so much time in the day, so much attention an administrator could dedicate to one area. Which meant that an administrator who tried to do everything on their own was a _failed_ administrator. Successful administration of a household, temple, or kingdom, required the ability to find and select competent people that she could delegate matters to, then to manage _them_. 

For example, insisting on personally tallying her household expenses, doing the calculations of salaries, and reviewing how much of her monthly budget she had spent, had been an excellent learning experience. It had put Hui’s exercises on estate management, and her subsequent education, into practice. For a year it was a valuable learning experience, as learning how to manage her household through the changes of three seasons of the Egyptian calendar laid the foundations for future management of the palace estate. 

However, Nebthet had held onto the responsibility even after the year was up. By refusing to turn over the time consuming process to an official or scribe from the treasury, she had failed as an administrator. She was not gaining anything from continuing to personally manage it, and should have instead done a seasonal review of whoever she selected to manage her household expenses. 

_Right now, I have roughly fifty people in my permanent household if I count the rotating tutors. It’s only going to get bigger as I get older and cultivate a larger power-base and entourage. Hell, I’m pretty sure I’m going to need to expand how many scribes I keep on personal retainer within the year. Keeping track of my increasing networking, now that I’m aware of the fact I’m at this stage, will get beyond Kaaper eventually._

Though, truth be told, putting Kaaper in charge of her communications had been a very mixed move from the beginning. On one hand, the old scribe was well-respected and feared by any scribe or official; managing to retain him was a credit to her. On the other, Kaaper was a crotchety, insulting, impertinent man who absolutely had the gall to spit in the King’s eye; his unfriendly nature deterred both unwelcome interest and welcome interest. _He served his purpose while I was blind, I suppose. It definitely further delayed my realization._

However, the time for his managing of her communications was over. Now she had adjusted to the reality of her situation, it was time to find a scribe to take over that aspect for Kaaper. Someone who wasn’t a doormat or a terror, but rather calm, dignified, and able to fend off the unsavory elements of court. It wouldn’t be an easy find, as Nebthet knew she was likely to have to look in the Judiciary for such a scribe.

 _And I don’t really have any connections there… Yet. I need a valid way to get interest from the scribes there, because I’m at best a_ **_very_ ** _long-term investment. Wasn’t there something I was thinking of during my lessons on law?_

Moving away from her desk - which was a wooden thing that sometimes made her cringe to know how expensive it was - Nebthet walked across her study and to the shelves that made up her personal library. Though calling it a personal library when there were only six cases of scrolls was a little much, Nebthet used it quite often. She had spent a hefty chunk of her personal budget over the years on commissioning copies of useful papyrus scrolls for herself, so that she could quickly reference things or double check herself. _Gods, I miss the internet so bad._

Roaming among the shelves for the papyrus scrolls on law, which were kept separate from the scrolls on tax law, Nebthet searched for a scroll she had tied with a colored thread. Removing it from the pile once she had spotted it, she pulled the string loose and unrolled the scroll. Skimming over the English words she had written in Hieratic, thus making it incomprehensible babble for any potential sneaks, Nebthet looked for the idea that was at the tip of her tongue. 

_Really early comments on the idea of introducing a more modern kind of prison system, and with the conclusion that it’s completely unfeasible. Modern imprisonment is something only the modern world can afford. Kemet is a desert nation, whatever surplus we produce needs to be conserved for lean times or to trade for needed goods. Hmm… A proposal to outright ban slavery, instead of Akhenamkhanen’s near stranglehold on it?_

Despite the image that had been presented about Egypt for centuries, slave labor wasn’t popular nor did the Egyptians really target ethinic or religious groups for enslavement. Most of the time, the slave population in Egypt had been war captives, debtors who were unable to pay their debts, with a smattering of random foreigners who had been enslaved for one reason or the other. Even in the New Kingdom period, where Egyptian expansionism, and thus its slave population, was at its highest… Slaves weren’t _that_ common. And they certainly weren’t used for important work like building.

But one of the surprising things she had learned in her magical education, was how Kemet had already acquired a pointed distaste for slavery. Not out of a sense of morality, but how slaves could bypass their owner’s magical protections. The act of owning a person created a tie that could be exploited, as magically protecting yourself from the “things you own” was both incredibly difficult and had a horrible success rate. Thus with every slave being a permanent security hazard, they were incredibly unpopular with the upper classes of Kemet. The small number of the upper class that kept slaves anyways however, were looked down upon as ignorant and without taste. Only merchants _really_ were in the slave trade, as it was lucrative in the Sumerian markets; they faced strict taxation for doing it. 

However, this situation had changed after Berenib’s death. Coincidentally, just before the curse struck, sickness rolled through one of the quarries worked by enslaved prisoners of war. Dozens died within hours of one another, yet no other slave, overseer, or guard felt so much as a sniffle. Once the report of this reached the capital that had been shellshocked by the Great Royal Wife’s painful death, the sorcerers launched an investigation. It was concluded that the enslaved prisoners had not died of sickness. Instead, they had sacrificed themselves to fuel a curse that used the tie created by being “slaves to the King of Kemet” to avenge the loss they’d been handed by Akhenamkhanen’s miraculous victory nearly two years ago.

Akhenamkhanen had responded to the results of the investigation with sweeping decrees. No more would the King, any branch of the government, or any government official keep slaves that posed such a threat to the royal family. The prisoners of war were forcibly ransomed back to their nation, via the pressure exerted by the existence of the Items. Those that were unimportant or unwanted by their home country were assigned a ransom price in debens they would work off in the quarries; once the price was paid, they would be freed and dumped back on their country’s side of the border.

 _I think the foundation has been set, now that there’s a government ban on anyone within the government owning slaves… But trying to permanently outlaw it is probably a ways off. Akhenamkhanen had the chance to declare it illegal outright, using the murder of Berenib as a reason, but without such a recent tragedy I doubt it can be pushed through now. There’s money in it for the merchants, and money for Kemet via the taxes. Getting people to give up on profits is hard enough with a moral reason, and no one in this time_ **_has_ ** _morals against slavery. Every culture has a form of it._

With that possibility discarded for some future day, Nebthet read through the rest of her notes before her eyes caught on the words “Justinian” and “unified code of law.” Now this, this absolutely could be her way into the Judiciary. 

_It’s been almost two hundred years since Narmer unified Upper and Lower Egypt into Kemet, and I know there was never an attempt to set down a solid law code. My law lessons have mostly been on legal precedents set by previous Kings, Viziers, and the royal decrees. And I specifically remember at least two of Hor-Aha’s decrees conflict with some of the later ones laid out by my grandfather Ankhmare._

It’d take years for the Judiciary to get copies of the legal laws and precedents made in _every_ nome, review them, and then begin the arduous task of trying to make a working, unified legal code. All while Nebthet could come and go in the Judiciary without question, find new people for her entourage, and expand her power-base. 

And there was no way they would be able to turn down her ambitious proposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egyptian Notes  
> 1\. Welcome to the beginning of "YGO having magic literally be extant for all of human history means some things are very different". It's only going to keep cropping up.  
> 2\. To explain "more precious than silver", it's because to Ancient Egypt silver was worth more than gold. It was much rarer and harder to get ahold of!  
> 3\. While future chapters will get into this more, there's three "types" of magic users. Sorcerers, magicians, and mages. Sorcerers can use what can be best described as conventional/natural magic, magicians can use Shadow Magic, and mages are the ultra special and rare people who are powerfully gifted in both kinds of magic.  
> 4\. When Nebthet talks of her "household", "entourage", and "power base" it might be a little confusing at first. When she refers to her household, it's about the people literally employed within her wing of the palace. (The precise size of her current household is that she has 53 people in it.) When talking about her entourage, it incorporates some of her household and others in her employ. For example, Hui is both part of her household and entourage; Harsiese isn't employed in her wing, thus isn't part of the household, but is part of the entourage.  
> Lastly, her power-base refers to *everything* that forms her personal power; think a literal "foundation of her power." It incorporates her household, entourage, her status and reputation, her connection to powerful figures, etc etc. Having a strong, solid, stable power-base is crucial to maintaining your position as a royal. Weak royals with small, or unstable, power-bases can find themselves facing rebellion, civil war, a coup, or attempts to make them into a puppet.  
> 5\. Weaving isn't easy, but it was an important and usually feminine job. Nebthet had found being able to use her hands a refreshing change of pace.  
> 6\. Ancient Egyptians had a unique calendar, which can be a little difficult for modern Egyptologists to deal with. You see, the calendar was calculated based on the astronomical observations of the Sirius star. When the star appeared in the night sky, it signaled that the flooding season was about to begin. So the Ancient Egyptian calendar was exactly 365 days, and there was no such thing as a leap year. It's divided into 12 months of 30 days each, and an intercalary month of five days at the end of the year. They officially count 3 seasons: Akhet, Peret, and Shemu. Or to translate: Inundation, Emergence, and Harvest.  
> 7\. Wood in a desert is a luxury item. So while royals naturally could have wooden furniture, like a desk, it's ungodly pricy.  
> 8\. Here's the real beginning of the story/Nebthet acknowledging that modern morality, and many modern ideals, simply cannot work in this time. And a lot of the time, there's several reasons why people behaved "barbarically." Keeping prisoners is expensive on multiple fronts, especially if you're not going to put them to work. Even when you *do* put them to work, you're still spending money that could be spent on your law abiding citizens. Rehabilitation might be tried, unofficially, for minor crimes like theft. But do you really want to waste precious food and beer on some murder or rapist?  
> 9\. I promise I'm not making up facts or white washing about slavery. It wasn't that popular, and it wasn't the same kind of slavery that comes to mind for modern readers. Egypt was usually *nationalistic xenophobes*, not racist. Also, I'm not gonna get into the whole...Moses bit. Cause it's religious, and I don't wanna kick sand on it.  
> 10\. Justinian, a Byzantine Emperor of extreme fame, is the guy who put together a unified law code out of the sheer, horrifying mess that was Roman Law by the time he took the throne. His work is the thing pretty much *all modern law* is based off of.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point, I might make a side "fic" to add in references, RL Ancient Egypt reading links and such... What do y'all think?

A year had passed since she had come up with her project to get herself into the Judiciary, and Nebthet sincerely regretted not arranging to have the credit fall onto a scribe into her service. Because not only had her project allowed her to expand into the Judiciary, it had _entrenched_ her in the Judiciary. 

_But how was I supposed to know Akhenaden would get involved like this?!_

It had been a week after she had submitted her formal inquiry and proposal to the Judiciary - citing the conflicting proclamations from Hor-Aha and Ankhmare as evidence - that Nebthet had gotten a sudden summons to meet with her uncle. This hadn’t been welcome news, as she preferred to avoid him whenever humanly possible. But there was no refusing when Akhenaden was Vizier of Kemet and she was a child princess with a tiny power-base. The meeting itself however, went smoothly. Nebthet had been blessed with a face that naturally had a blank, neutral expression as its default; all she had to do was control her expressions and speak calmly. 

Akhenaden had already reviewed the scroll she sent to the Judiciary, so there was no need to rehash the actual proposal. Instead, Nebthet had been drilled on how she had realized the scope of the situation when no one else had. Because, as Akhenaden coldly explained, even the very first preliminary investigations were showing results that the legal conflicts might be even more severe than Nebthet had anticipated. She had then blessed her overwhelming amount of tutoring in that moment, as it was easy to explain herself to him without relying on information from her previous life. 

Nebthet had then constructed for Akhenaden a narrative. Her education of the Sumerian city-states - which was pieced together over the lessons on economics, diplomacy, the Sumerian language, and so on - had given her the understanding that even people who share a language and the same land can be wildly different. If city-states that exist so closely to one another can have entirely different legal codes, trading relationships, and deities they worship, what made Kemet different? Narmer had unified the Two Lands, but there was still a divide that persisted to this day. And before Narmer, hadn’t there been much infighting between rival, local powers?

Of course, when questioned on why she hadn’t realized there was such an issue before now, Nebthet had refuted that she had naturally thought such a situation had been taken care of by her ancestors. Her lessons on law hadn’t indicated that they had _not_ , nor had they indicated that the conflicting proclamations hadn’t been reconciled by a subsequent ruling her tutor hadn’t seen fit to cover yet. So, naturally, she had only realized this when she went looking for how Ankhmare had clarified the legal quandary of the conflicting proclamations… only to find no such thing. Or any indication that any King had attempted to unify the law for all of Kemet.

Akhenaden’s chill expression actually warmed by a few degrees after she gave him the narrative, and that glint of satisfaction reappeared in his eye. This display had cooled her blood with trepidation, because whenever she had satisfied him to such an extent… Nebthet had wound up paying the price with an expanded workload. And her fear had been right, as her pleased uncle had assigned her to personally oversee this project for him. “Nebthet, you should take pride in bringing this to my attention. It is rare that I find myself impressed by anyone and yet… you are making a habit of it. You’re a credit to our blood, niece.”

She’d barely had a moment to be shocked by the very first time he had _ever_ acknowledged they were related, let alone the unprecedented outpouring of praise, before Akhenaden had gone on to tell her he was appointing her to monitor the project. Normally he would have done it himself but, as he was already quite busy and she had just proven herself, Akhenaden was going to entrust her with this. 

_And I regret it so very, very much. I might only be reviewing and directing the overall project, but it’s_ **_a lot_ ** _of work. We’re still collecting every unique law we can find in Kemet, down to the village, while trying to note the patterns of where certain laws crop up._ Nebthet had regretted it even as she introduced the scribes and officials working on the project to the idea of looking for patterns of commonality in the geography, time, and situation when certain laws kept appearing in multiple nomes… But it was something they’d need to know when they eventually got to debating on the unified code. 

Nebthet kept trying to remind herself of the benefits the project had brought to console herself, especially when Kaaper had nearly had a stroke over hearing her schedule had to be utterly reworked. _I got all the Judiciary scribes in my entourage I could ask for, and I absolutely can snap up more at any time. Kaaper’s no longer in control of my official communications; Behenu gets all that fun now, and seems to relish it. I’m going to be so heavily involved in what’s probably_ **_the_ ** _defining Judicial project for my father_ **_and_ ** _Atem’s reigns, that I’d have to miserably fail and be publicly reprimanded in court by Akhenamkhanen to not wind up with the Judiciary itself joining my power-base._

But when she was having to report on the progress of the project to Akhenaden, on a monthly basis, it was difficult to remember. That had been an unpleasant surprise to find out, because her progress reports to Akhenaden weren’t going to be on a seasonal basis as she had assumed. Oh no, Akhenaden very much wanted to be fully informed and capable of weighing in at any time. 

However, Nebthet personally suspected the man also was using it as an assessment of her. There were just too many questions about her thought process and such to think it was purely for reviewing the project. _And the longer I oversee the project and interact with Akhenaden, I have to wonder… What the hell is the King doing? Akhenaden doesn’t even_ **_mention_ ** _needing to check with him, or inform him of anything! He makes all decisions, never passing along commentary, questions, or commands from the King. Akhenaden might be the Vizier, second only to the King, but I see no indication that Akhenamkhanen is actually above him!_

Yet, despite her rising doubts as to the realities of who actually was in charge of this kingdom, Nebthet was in no position to dig for the truth. She was too busy, too young, and without a footing in the court. As Akhenaden didn’t seem to be inclined to lead a murderous coup d'etat currently, it could wait either until she could investigate or if Akhenaden began making certain moves.

* * *

Kaaper’s sour and deeply offended expression as he informed her that her schedule would be changing yet again, said that the poor scribes under his command were going to suffer later. Nebthet, however, was enjoying how this schedule change absolutely couldn’t be blamed on her. Last time, Kaaper had nearly lost his voice berating her for turning down a rhetoric tutor in exchange for one that could begin teaching her the beginnings of Shadow Magic. 

This time however, the blame was on Akhenamkhanen. The King had decreed that now that the High Priests of the Sacred Court had selected their eventual successors, they were to be brought to the palace where they and the royal children would share lessons in Shadow Magic. _And shocking as it is to hear Akhenamkhanen’s done anything, this is a sound move. These individuals will eventually take up the other six Millennium Items, and use them on Atem’s behalf. We’ll be interacting with them for decades most likely, so it’s essential to begin building close ties. We must be able to trust them with the Items after all!_

Hopefully it meant she would finally get to see Sabni again. The man had left the capital for his cult’s primary temple after she was released from the curse quarantine, and hadn’t been back since. It had prevented her from thanking the man for getting her situation reviewed, something she’s eager to rectify. 

“Princess, it’s time to get ready.”

Looking at Hui in confusion for interrupting her, Nebthet said “Ready? Ready for what?” 

The priestess of Hathor, and the woman Nebthet had appointed as in charge of her household’s daily affairs, gave her a patient look, “The Sacred Guardians are presenting their future successors to the King at court today. As Crown Princess you need to be in attendance, which means you must dress according to your status!”

Nebthet resisted the grimace she wanted to make at the news, trying to tell herself it was part of her training to control her expression as perfectly as Akhenaden did. But in reality she had to admit it was purely so she didn’t spoil Hui’s excitement. _I do tend to stick to the bare minimum of apparel since I can get away with it for now. Usually I only have on kohl and a shendyt, since I refuse to put on a stitch more than I have to during the day. I’m enjoying the short time of minimalistic dressing I have! And it’s not like my hair doesn’t immediately mark who I am… Plus, once puberty hits again, it’s all over for my free and unencumbered person. It might be fine for many women to go topless or nude, but a Crown Princess is expected to flaunt her status by actually wearing clothing. And jewelry._

Submitting to her eager handmaidens, and Hui, they began the process of making her fit for court. They lightly plucked her eyebrows into a more sharply defined shape, then washed her skin free of any oils before lightly dabbing a small amount of precious kyphi along her neck and wrists. _Thank the gods I can keep myself from sweating with my itty bit of magical talent; I don’t need to drench myself in it in hopes of it overpowering any other smell._

Once Nebthet’s face was cleaned, the handmaidens burst into a flurry of activity while she stood there stoically. Her shendyt was unwrapped from her hips by one pair of hands, leaving her naked, while another pair began clasping on gold anklets. Giving a critical look at the two exceedingly fine and heavily pleated white linen shendyts, Nebthet made her selection “The left. And do my slippers still fit? I don’t recall if I commissioned new ones.”

Holding her arms out for the women that were cleaning her nails and putting on her armlets, Hui assured her “No worries Princess, I took care of it. The old ones were indeed too small.” 

Shifting hips as a handmaiden wrapped the fine shendyt on her, so that the thing would fall properly on her, Nebthet hummed appreciatively “Thank you. And no, not that collar. Red isn’t suited to me.”

The handmaiden took it back into the storeroom with a nod, returning with a broad collar necklace made of hundreds of the finest faience beads in shades of green and blue. Nebthet approved of it with a nod, ignoring her perpetual exasperation with needing costly jewelry she absolutely would outgrow; at least the faience beads could always be recycled into a similar necklace for an adult. As the woman moved to place it so it would fall across her collarbones, another ran a perfunctory comb through her hair. There was no use in trying to comb it, really, but the handmaidens and Hui swore it added luster to her already colorful hair.

“Only the lightest paint for my lips. I’m still a child, so it wouldn’t be appropriate for anything too dark or vibrant.” Nebthet warned the handmaiden who was essentially her makeup artist. The woman giggled as she wielded her ivory application sticks carefully, “Of course Your Highness, I know your tastes by now. The Crown Princess likes minimal, elegant looks, unlike the Crown Prince.”

Nebthet refrained from sighing as it brought to mind Atem’s evolving tastes in makeup. Her twin was intent on dark, dramatic looks despite his age making it look hilariously out of place. It even seemed as if he was going to wind up inventing the smoky-eye look, or something straight out of her first life’s goth style.

Looking at a polished copper mirror one handmaiden was holding for her, Nebthet then turned her attention away from her brother’s forays into makeup experimentation and towards telling her makeup artist how to draw her eyebrows. Despite having eyebrows, freshly shaped ones at that, it wasn’t proper to not apply makeup to them. “Not so thick this time, more thin and slightly upwards on the angle; I kept getting asked what I was upset with by the Judiciary scribes when I was reviewing their progress.”

With her eyebrows done, it was time to heavily apply the dark blue-green powder that Hui had personally designed to make her eyes look even more luminous. The makeup artist applied it to her eyelids liberally, reaching all the way up to the underside of her eyebrows with the color, before applying the kohl around the edges of her eyes. Nebthet preferred the standard Egyptian looks for her kohl for the moment, which always had the makeup artist sigh over the lack of customization. _When I’m physically matured, I’ll switch to a nice cateye shape. Until then… I don’t need to look_ **_attractive_ ** _when I’m eight._

As the handmaiden finished applying the makeup, Nebthet went along with the handmaiden slipping on the linen slippers. The cloth was finely woven, which meant it felt nice on her feet, but she’d likely have to dispose of them after today. Such fine linen stained easily, and no laundress could make it sufficiently white enough again without tearing the linen. _Thus why I try to stick to just going barefoot when I can, since sandals aren’t really a thing yet. Leather’s considered ritually impure, so there’s a taboo around wearing them unless you’re going to be marching into the wilderness._

“Hui, select two handmaidens to accompany me. I need to speak to the scribes about their tasks for today, in case this presentation takes longer than I anticipate.”

“Of course Princess. And I have the household well in hand for the day. Your Highness can concentrate on the presentation.”

Nebthet gave her oldest and most valued supporter a smile. She was lucky that of all the women who could have been selected to care for her, it was kind, competent, and loyal Hui.

* * *

When Nebthet first saw her twin, she felt her handmaiden had jinxed her because Atem had gone as far from “simple and elegant” as possible for this event. He was covered in lavish gold jewelry to the point that he would blind any onlookers if sunlight found him, and his makeup was even more dramatic than usual. It was obvious he was trying to give off an imposing, regal aura to impress the assembled successors to the Sacred Guardians, but Nebthet doubted it would have its intended effect. _Seriously, do his handmaidens, or whoever is in charge of his apparel, encourage this? Or is this just Atem’s natural aesthetics? I mean, he’s wearing more gold than the King…_

Atem was placed to the King’s immediate right, as always, while Nebthet took her place to the King’s immediate left. There was barely a moment to greet the King before he gestured for one of the officials to inform the High Priests to lead their chosen successors in, and Nebthet had to bite off the greeting she was going to give to Akhenaden. It was also… awkward to be sitting next to Akhenaden while he was standing. While she had resigned herself to getting used to being eternally placed between Akhenamkhanen and her uncle at official events, it felt odd that Akhenaden had to stand this time. However, the oddness didn’t stop her from paying attention to the event. 

The first thing she noticed was that there were only five successors. And considering how each one was following the High Priest they would one day replace, Akhenaden hadn’t found a successor. _But did he even bother to look? I know from asking around that the other High Priests were ordered to travel through all of Kemet to find the best candidate to replace them, and I also know Akhenaden absolutely didn’t set foot outside the capital. He’s too busy to even return to the cult he’s Head Priest of!_

They assembled before the dais, and the High Priests greeted the King with all due reverence and ceremony while the successors remained in humble silence. Once they had done their group greeting, the High Priests each took a turn to introduce their successor to the King and the court. High Priestess Isis of the Necklace went first, introducing a girl in a full kalasiris and who looked very similar to her as... Isis. _It really is a question on whether it was nepotism at work, or the Item actually reacted best to the woman’s daughter. But I suspect Isis the Older kept her search “in house”, so to say, regardless. The cult of Isis the Goddess doesn’t need more prestige, but like hell they’d willingly risk giving up a piece._

High Priest Siamun of the Key went next, and Nebthet had to spare a moment of pity for his chosen successor; Shada was as bald as an egg. Magicians weren’t allowed to shave their hair for several reasons, but most importantly was the fact that hair was an excellent indication of any sudden changes in a magician’s health. If the boy was bald, then he must have already lost whatever hair he had naturally.

Sabni’s successor, Kalim, wasn’t much to write home about; neither very unique looking, questionably selected, or anything else to really make him stand out. Nebthet did have to admit though, the sheer precision in how evenly cut his hair was did look “balanced.” _Which, as someone looking to wield the Scales one day is probably good. It still makes me think of Vulcans though._

After Sabni was High Priest Raherka of the Ring, and his successor was Atem’s Mahad. Nebthet had only heard good things of the young mage’s prodigious talent for magic and Shadow Magic, which might make him the most qualified candidate here. But she knew he was unquestionably the most prestigious, as Nebthet had eventually gotten around to digging into his background. _He has such influence over Atem,_ **_positive_ ** _influence at that, I wanted to make sure it didn’t need to be nipped in the bud._ Mahad was a younger son of a nomarch in one of Kemet’s richest nomes, and he was a very, very distant cousin through their maternal line. _Minor Upper nobility, son of a wealth family, and a mage to boot… Atem’s very lucky indeed that it looks like Mahad is utterly loyal to him._

Last, but not least, was High Priest Userhet of the Rod’s successor. Nebthet took in the hard faced boy that stood at least a head and a half taller than any other candidate, and marked him down as someone to keep an eye on. Userhet’s Seth had foreign blood in his veins, very _recent_ blood it looks like. _Those are some incredibly blue eyes he has. Like, it’s not at all an exaggeration to compare them to fine sapphires or lapis lazuli. But the most damning aspect is how he’s not wearing a shendyt, but a tunic. Though, considering how tight and short it is on him… He might not have anything else, since I don’t see even one piece of jewelry on him._ Nebthet then considered how Seth towered over his contemporaries. _Or he has the bad luck to be going through a growth spurt._

Kemet was fairly enlightened in a number of ways for a nation in ancient times. Women were viewed as the legal equals to men, slavery was unpopular, ethnicity wasn’t discriminated against, and there were chances for upward mobility in society. However, Egypt had always fallen short on how it treated non-Egyptians. Even before the later invasions, there had been a strong sense of xenophobia. Other cultures were not as civilized as Egyptian culture, other places were not as good as Egypt, and so on, as seen by the millennia of utter refusal to let an Egyptian princess marry out of Egypt despite the potential benefits.

While Kemet’s xenophobia wasn’t nearly as strong as Egypt’s would be after suffering the indignity of being ruled by invaders, it was still quite present. No one had forgotten the reason why they had needed the miraculous appearance of the Items. So for Userhet to have selected Seth, a commoner who blatantly had foreign blood, meant his merits and talent drastically outweighed any other possible choice. 

_Let’s hope he lives up to that promise then. Because, the only outright support he will have here is Userhet; and Userhet is reputed to have an unforgiving temperament._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egyptian Notes:
> 
> 1\. Despite the tendency to refer to Mesopotamian/Sumerian civilizations in ways that can make you think they're a unified culture... They're not. The city-states each were very unique, despite sharing a language and a chunk of culture, and were very much almost constantly warring with some neighbor or the other.  
> 2\. Ancient Egyptian law is one of those subjects that tends to get *really* confusing to research, thanks to a number of things. Most prominent is, again, how the subject seems to get churned into a confusing mix of Old/Middle/New Kingdom legal practices. However, like I've been writing, there's currently no known attempt to really unify and codify a law code. Presumably there was some form of general law code over the ages, but Kings/Pharaohs were the ultimate authority and could overturn or decide anything at any time and we've never *found any papyri on law.*  
> 3\. Is this a staggering amount of responsibility Akhenaden has handed a 8 year old? Absolutely! Nebthet's underselling just how *big* a deal this is.  
> 4\. Being offered a rhetoric teacher at all is very... Implications laden. Rhetoric is about learning how to speak in public, particularly how to give speeches. And Nebthet is slated to be Atem's Queen, which is not a position that lends itself to making speeches...  
> 5\. Thanks to the Items meaning that, usually, the High Priests that wield them should be staying within speaking distance to the King, there's some weirdness about how the six priests reconcile with their duties to their cult. Even with the generous set-up of the Early Dynastic era (A 3 month shift where you serve at your temple, then you resume your life outside until the next year) this means pretty much all of them are neglecting their religious duties to some degree. The workarounds they've tried to make will be discussed in future chapters hopefully, but Sabni's absence from court was something he had to work very hard to maintain.  
> 6\. Welcome to the fun of dressing up like an Egyptian Royal! Makeup is required for all sexes, and jewelry is something both sexes wear. And yes, sandals weren't very popular unless you were going into terrain that required them to protect your feet. Royals and the wealthy could afford to have linen slippers, as pure white linen gets dirty very easily.  
> 7\. First up, I'm going to be stating that part of the ripple-effects of magic existing is that Kemet has jewelry making skills (and some other things too) comparable to the New Kingdom period. Part world-building, but majorly because a lot of the very distinctive jewelry shown in the Memory World arc wouldn't be possible without such a level of tech; and I liked the jewelry. Secondly, faience is "non-clay based ceramics composed of crushed quartz or sand, with small amounts of calcite lime and a mixture of alkalis, displaying surface vitrification due to the soda lime silica glaze." Faience is treated as a equal to semi-precious stones, and also *replaces* those gems for when it'd be too expensive to use the real deal.  
> 8\. Akhenaden is a man with many powers and titles. He's not only the wielder of the Eye, he's Vizier and the Head Priest of a cult.  
> 9\. A kalasiris is a simple sheath dress that falls to the ankles, generally pretty tight and pleated.  
> 10\. The whole "Priestess Isis, Isis her daughter" will get explained eventually.  
> 11\. Now for the one that probably raised eyebrows, since I did make it clear that Seth is likely to be discriminated against by others. When I state that Ancient Egypt wasn't racist, I mean they did not discriminate on skin color/ethnicity. Ancient Egypt had many ethnicities that made up its populace! It's only during the New Kingdom that you see something you could consider "racism", however this was due to the fact the groups were resisting assimilation into Egyptian culture. And as Egypt likely had at least one invasion (from inside the nation!) that probably resulted for not pressing the issue...New Kingdom was the least tolerant.   
> This feeds into some of the great "flaws" of Egyptian civilization. Ancient Egypt was very nationalistic and xenophobic, which aside from the whole "no princess shall marry out of Egypt" is best demonstrated by how they viewed all other religions. As Set is the God of Foreigners (and part of the reason for his eventual demonization) and one of his duties was to lead them to submitting to Kemet... They viewed all other religions being Set in disguise. At least when they weren't just saying that "no, really your gods are OUR gods and you're just getting the name wrong."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to write for real children, even ones considerably mature and aged by hardship and trauma... Hard.

A little under halfway into a month of the shared lessons - the first class she’d had in this life that wasn’t one on one - Nebthet had gathered some conclusions via observation, and was considering planning out what actions she should take.

Her first conclusion was one she had gathered pretty quickly; this whole setup had been some grand idea, one that hadn’t actually been planned out by someone who actually taught on a frequent basis. It was obvious by the way the class had been structured that no tutor or teacher had been consulted beforehand. The class was not accommodating for those who had long since surpassed the basics they were going over, such as Mahad and surprisingly Atem; nor did it have the ability or even desire to help those who seemed to have not been taught much at all, such as Seth. Nebthet herself fell far behind Atem and Mahad, yet her few months of tutoring had put her ahead of the lightly prepared Shada, Isis the Younger, and Kalim. 

All of this led to a class that was actually encouraging factions within the students, not unity and “fraternity.”  _ For the moment there’s four factions. Atem and Mahad’s; Isis the Younger, Shada, and Kalim’s; Seth’s; and lastly, mine. Mahad seems like he’d like to impart some of his learning to the rest of us, but he’s too busy keeping Atem from snapping at the poor magician; the man cringes every time, which only has Atem’s temper get worse. I have to wonder who the hell recommended this idiot though. There must be a magician made of sterner stuff, or one that knows how to do more than just lecture at us. _

Nebthet’s other conclusions were that Userhet had plucked Seth out of some distant nome, that the man wasn’t spending so much as a deben on his future successor, and the King hadn’t arranged for an allowance for Seth when Userhet wouldn’t provide one. These had come with prolonged observation, as the boy was stern, quiet, and there was sharpness to his eyes that said he’d not suffer foolishness or insult lightly.  _ But it’s not hard to notice when Seth only has a small amount of very roughly made papyri to take notes on; ones that show signs of being washed of ink for reusing. Or when he seems to only have two tunics that keep getting smaller on him. _

He usually only spoke up when called upon by the magician, but within the last week he had been a bit bolder. After the class had ended, he’d begun trying to speak with her; asking her to elaborate on an answer she gave in class, or asking what exactly his own answer had been missing. At first Nebthet had given him the quickest possible replies, as she couldn’t afford to linger with her schedule. But she’d begun making time the next day, after seeing the way he was able to instantly incorporate her answers in his own understanding. 

He was clearly learning and  _ understanding _ the material, displaying a sort of intuitive grasp that Nebthet personally would have paid dearly to have. Despite the massive gaps in his education compared to theirs, and how the magician was terrible at educating, Seth was learning faster than she had. It all pointed to a very keen mind, perhaps even brilliant, and Nebthet was keenly interested in what Seth could do with proper support.  _ And if Userhet won’t give Seth that support, despite him being his future successor, then I will. Seth might be able to claw out his own success if I leave him be, but forcing him to do so is a failure on everyone’s part. It’ll only slow down his education and divide us further.  _

Her mind made up, Nebthet looked at the crotchety man and said “Kaaper, pick a day this week and set aside two hours for a private discussion. In addition, I need to arrange a meeting with High Priest Akhenaden that’s not related to the Judiciary.” __

The old, bald man glowered at her. “At least you’re giving me proper notice Princess, instead of your usual and hateful surprises. Behenu! Get in here, you smirking cow!” 

Despite the insult, it couldn’t be contested that Behenu always looked to be smirking at you. The woman naturally had a face that seemed to make her smile look like a smug smirk, which when paired with her jaw-dropping figure… Well, Nebthet had seen more than one scribe walk himself into a wall or pillar while Behenu was about. “Head Scribe, Princess, you needed me?” 

Her voice was steady and calm, which visibly made Kaaper scowl harder. Nebthet on the other hand, remained pleased she had recruited Behenu from the Judiciary. 

“Yes Behenu. I need you to write to High Priest Akhenaden and request a meeting as soon as he can squeeze me in this week; make sure to highlight that this is  _ not  _ about the Judiciary. Secondly, as soon as Kaaper sets the day I can have a couple hours set aside for this, I want you to find High Priest Userhet’s successor Seth. I’ll be inviting him to speak with me privately in my wing. And while this isn’t an order for him to appear… I also don’t want you to treat this casually Behenu.” 

The scribe scratched the information onto her ever-present wax tablet, before looking up again, “Is there anything else Princess?”

Nebthet considered it, before deciding if she was going to meddle then she should meddle thoroughly. “Yes, one last thing. Send a message to the House of Double Silver, and ask if there’s been any funds set aside for the successors to use. Or if they will eventually be paying them at some point.”

With that noted down, Behenu bowed and left to take care of the tasks Nebthet had just issued. “Impertinent of her to leave without any dismissal. Why you gave her such an honored post Princess, I cannot understand.”

Sliding her cyan eyes to give Kaaper an incredulous look for calling anyone “impertinent,” Nebthet decided not to prod the old scribe. He hadn’t finished up this week’s schedule yet after all.

* * *

“Your Highness, Userhet’s successor has arrived. Shall I escort him into the reception area?”

Nebthet turned from the copper mirror to look at Hui, “Yes. I’ll be out shortly, I just need to touch up my kohl.”

The makeup artist gently guided her head to face her again, and Nebthet let her finish reapplying the fresh kohl. She wasn’t dressing up for her meeting with Seth, as she wasn’t out to intimidate or impress him with her status as Crown Princess. However, she was taking care with her appearance because  _ she  _ had invited him.  _ Arriving looking disheveled from my daily tasks would be rude and say he’s not worth the respect of at least looking presentable. We’re not close, so going as I am isn’t not going to be taken as a sign of intimacy and trust. _

Once her makeup was fresh, and she was satisfied with her appearance in the copper mirror, Nebthet dismissed the artist with a quick thanks. It’d been a few minutes, and she needed to get to her hosting area. Exiting her personal quarters, Nebthet followed the path along her courtyard’s massive lotus pond until she could turn into the large, airy room that held both her lounge and hosting area. Seth stood out in the richly decorated and furnished area, but there were no nerves on his face. Indeed, his back was straight and his expression calm as he sat on a chair that was almost certainly worth more than everything he’d ever owned.

He rose to his feet as he saw her, moving to bow lowly before she called out “No need to bow so low to me Seth. You will be the wielder of the Rod someday, thus you should view yourself much higher.”

Seth paused, before adjusting the bow into the slighter one of someone not too much lower in rank as he watched her reaction. Nebthet gave him a small smile, as she took a seat across from him.  _ What a smooth reaction, no hesitation or groveling at all… But not quite willing to trust it’s not a test.  _

Cobalt eyes locked with her teal ones naturally as he sat back down, without any hint of inferiority in his expression or posture; it was something many servants, scribes, and others struggled to do, and it was rare anyone could keep this from leaking into their body language at all.  _ But it’s not defiant, either. It looks like he understands defiance is asking for some asshole with power to beat you down. And while I know he’s deferring to our status differences, there’s no real  _ **_deference_ ** _ either.  _ Nebthet had already noted this unusual self-respect and dignity in their previous interactions, when he had asked her questions, but to maintain it these surroundings?  _ It’s too soon to say for certain, but I think he might just have a spine of steel. _

“Princess, why did you wish to speak in private?”

Was he still testing her assertion that he should view himself in a higher manner? Nebthet didn’t know enough about him to do more than make educated guesses based on observation, but what she’d seen of his intelligence pointed to such a conclusion. 

“I have a number of questions for you, and I want to avoid either embarrassing you or potentially putting you in an awkward situation with High Priest Userhet.”

Seth frowned, just slightly, but didn’t volunteer any information. There were no complaints or praise, and yet Nebthet thought she spotted a thread of tension in his posture. “What kind of questions would these be, Your Highness?”

Nebthet considered delicately hinting, but she preferred to be straightforward when possible. Miscommunication was to be avoided when possible; especially when Behenu had reported it seemed like Seth was living with the common servants who tended to the palace grounds.  _ Not one of the others would ever be put with servants, as it’d be a humiliating insult. As it is, if this is true, it will be used against him eventually.  _

“Has Userhet done anything to provide for you as his successor? Accommodations, clothing, education, anything at all?” His eyes narrowed along with his lips, but Seth remained quiet. Perhaps he thought her unable to help, or that she would only bring him trouble if she meddled.

Either way, Nebthet tried to convince him to speak. “I am not without power or resources, despite my age. My position as Crown Princess is not an empty title Seth; Userhet will not be able to sweep this into the rushes, or retaliate against you.”

Yet all she got was more silence, and a hard, bitterly tired look in cobalt eyes.  _ Damnit, I’m sure Userhet’s done nothing now. How do I help Seth then, without getting him in trouble, when he doesn’t trust me? I could just prove I’ve the power, force him to acknowledge I can do this via Akhenaden, but his pride… No, I need to do this the slow way. And giving him things will only get him accused of theft or worse… Oh, I know what to do.  _

Sighing, Nebthet kept her expression calmly neutral as she looked at him, “If you won’t speak for now, this is what I’ll do. I have access to a wide array of tutors, including ones in magic, Shadow Magic, and literacy. I will arrange for them to help you fill in the gaps of your current education, as our shared teacher is… inadequate. You will come to my wing every day to get this tutoring, and I will provide you with a seal should anyone try to protest. Am I understood?”

Seth hesitated for a moment, but Nebthet had read him accurately. Knowledge was priceless and couldn’t be taken from him, even if the Princess proved to be a spoiled, unreliable noble. So long as she gave him access to education, he would take her for everything he could. “Yes Princess. Is there anything else you wanted to speak to me about?” 

_ A great deal, but you don’t trust in my character or power. And when I get my hands on the report from the Treasury and speak to Akhenaden… Things  _ **_will_ ** _ change. _

“No. And should you ever wish to speak Seth, I will make time for you.”

He nodded wordlessly, before standing and giving her that same slight bow with an evaluating look. As he left her wing, Nebthet called for Behenu, Kaaper, and Hui. There were many things to be done, and some even weren’t about Seth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egyptian Notes:
> 
> 1\. A deben is a fun thing to try and explain. You see, Egypt did not go off the barter system for a long, long time. Coinage did not become a thing until the Romans and Ptolemies got involved. Yet a deben was a measure unit of worth, which *sort of* fits into the idea of money. Two pairs of leather sandals might be worth a deben, and a deben might also equal a jug of beer. So using this, you could trade 2 pairs of leather sandals for 1 jug of beer, as both are worth 1 deben.   
> 2\. Whatever the actual etiquette was for Ancient Egypt, I have no idea. My research has turned up nothing, so I'm making it up as I go.


	8. Chapter 8

Nebthet has her meetings, her lessons, and continues to observe Seth when she’s not too distracted. And she admits, she’s frequently distracted. It was inevitable once her inquiries revealed that, no, there was no such funds allotted for the successors. After all, it was inevitable when their successors had not been paid in anything but glory, prestige, and power.

Like most of the issues she runs into, it was not maliciously done. The Sacred Guardians were established during a state of emergency and given all due honors once the war was won. But the problem was that all of them were well established priests, with plenty of resources and funds; the cults behind them were also quite wealthy. They didn’t think to ask for additional funds once the Sacred Guardians were formalized in the early days of peace, partly due to wanting to avoid being crass. But mostly because none of them _needed_ it.

_All Guardians are titled as High Priest for the honor of bearing and wielding an Item in Kemet’s defence. But it’s an empty title; they are not made High Priest of any cult for being an Item bearer. They are not paid, and frankly there’s no concrete or material benefits. In fact, considering just how many strings can come attached depending on the Item… It would be a cursed gift if there weren't all those immaterial benefits._

_What they are paid in, essentially, is more subtle and expensive than mere money or goods; even if no one will ever admit this is so, since this is their “honor and duty.” Their payment is in power, status, prestige, and most important of all, near constant access to the King. Really it’s the access to the King that’s jaw dropping, thanks to two things. First off, the closer you are the more likely you’re to get some form of benefits eventually; gold, land, titles, etcetera. Secondly, is that access to the King is restricted as both a powerplay and to reinforce his divinity. Like how the temples will let only priests beyond certain points, then only certain priests, before finally only the chief priest has access to the inner sanctum of the god’s votive idol._

_All these rewards combine to put them into a societal rank_ **_just_ ** _below the royal family and the Vizier, despite being outside the usual societal ranks. At this point, even the costs and limitations of being a Guardian can’t diminish the scope of what they’re paid with. Asking for material compensation would be beyond crass and greedy. But none of this means anything for Seth, or potentially successors like Seth. As the future successor he only gets a tiny bit of reflected power, and all this immaterial wealth means nothing when he doesn’t also have material wealth._

The complexity of the situation had seen her meeting with Akhenaden go differently than anticipated, at least for the portion regarding her findings on the matter of getting funds for Seth. The majority of her meeting with him had been over the Shadow Magic class, explaining the issues she was noticing and that she felt it needed a complete overhaul at minimum. Akhenaden had been, as usual in their meetings, very noncommittal until he wrung every thought, opinion, and observation from her.

“The class cannot be done away with, even if it would be easier to sweep it aside and implement something new. It is something put into place by the King, and would be an embarrassment if it were known just how badly it was designed.”

Nebthet had suspected as much, but that was certainly a… blunt way to put it. Not treasonous per say - and Akhenaden’s facial expressions were so tightly controlled they were of little use as clues for his true feelings - yet it rang a faint alarm bell in her mind. With that comment setting the tone for the rest of her conversation with him, they spoke about politely subverting the King’s command for the betterment of everyone involved. The class would not be abolished, but quietly partitioned into three study subgroups in accordance with the education and aptitude of everyone involved. Eventually, the goal was that the class would be integrated once there was a more acceptable average understanding so it _could_ do all the things it was meant to do.

“Atem and Mahad need to be reined in from advancing too far ahead in theory. The rest of the class needs to catch up to them, and if they keep advancing it will make that extremely difficult. Can it be arranged for them to do time-absorbing but simple projects?”

“For a time. The Prince is the crux of the issue, as the King oversees his education personally. It will be difficult to modify it… but for comradery between the future Guardians and King, I will see what I can do.”

“Very well. And I request that my division include Seth.” 

“So long as your performance remains pleasing, I will allow it. Now, speak on the other issue you wished to bring before me.” 

Discussing the monetary issues she had discovered about the Guardian’s payment, and how it impacted Seth, made Akhenaden frown. Nebthet ignored the obvious sign of displeasure, as Akhenaden wasn’t entirely dissimilar to Atem; neither respected those who cowered easily or at their mere displeasure. 

With further inquiries made to the treasury broadening her understanding, the situation had become increasingly thorny and problematic. Trying to establish a monetary fund for the successors opened up the potential of material payment for the current Guardians. After all, there was the argument that could be made that whatever the successors got should be given to the Guardians as well. 

Regardless of how greedy and crass they would appear to ask for it, Nebthet had Seth’s situation as evidence that at least Userhet absolutely would make a fuss over payment. And the House of Double Silver’s report was quite thorough on the matter of how much it would cost to try and reimburse the Guardians all potential monetary back-pay they would be owed; it would be staggering. _It wouldn’t beggar Kemet, but it would put us near scraping the gold off things for quick money. Over time we could easily handle it, but it would be demanded as an immediate lump sum to cover the “embarrassment” of not suitably rewarding war heroes._

“This… I have yet to inspect the successors personally, but are you certain Userhet is neglecting his successor so blatantly?”

She had not expected him to focus on Seth at the beginning, as usually Akhenaden looked at the larger, farther reaching issues first. Nebthet had expected him to be diving into the issue of material payment. Yet, Seth was an incredibly important person to Atem’s eventual rule and would be near impossible to replace; Seth had been chosen on _merit,_ unlike her suspicions about Isis the Younger. 

“Quite so. And after the replies from the treasury, my proposal is that I unofficially become his patron. I am willing to invest in Seth, of my own personal budget if need be, because I have seen he possesses a keen mind and a mature personality. While I do admit he likely has the fortitude to claw his way up on his own, it’s wasteful to make him when I have the means to help him avoid wasting time.”

“I will be investigating Userhet’s conduct personally after this. If the man has the gall to treat his successor so callously in front of the entire court, what else could he have been foolish enough to do?” Nebthet barely had a moment to feel vicious pleasure at the thought of Userhet having to deal with Akhenaden, before he then delivered the final part of his verdict. “As for your budget… Normally you would be reimbursed for all you spent on the successor’s care. However, since you wish to make this patronage - no matter how unofficial - it means everything must come from your own personal funds. Do you understand?”

_Another test, either of my commitment, nerve, or fiance management… Or the ability to judge some things, some people, are worth spending your resources on. I never can tell with Akhenaden, even if I think I’m getting a better feel for him after so many meetings._

After Nebthet had calmly accepted the fact that all financial burden would fall on her, their meeting had ended. But the promised changes did not happen immediately, even with Akhenaden’s power. Seth came to her wing for lessons, they attended the Shadow Magic class, and continued their respective routines. Before the week was over however, Akhenaden’s influence was made known when the nervous magician teaching them informed them of the class temporarily splitting into subgroups. Atem and Mahad had looked relieved, while the trio were of mixed feelings. Seth… Well, he had looked at her intently with burning cobalt eyes when the teacher informed them he was to be grouped with her.

Their new teachers had then entered the room to claim the new groups, leading them to different classrooms. For her and Seth however, their new teacher had led them back to her wing. She had not protested, as her wing had the resources to ensure their comfort while learning, but Seth had given her another look when it was obvious where they were going. 

Once they had settled, the new magician proved refreshingly well versed in teaching. Zamonth, as he introduced himself, spent their first lesson together asking a series of questions to understand their current level of knowledge in Shadow Magic theory. Once he had, Zamonth explained to them that he would begin with filling in the holes in Seth’s foundation and having Nebthet solidify her grasp of the basics. 

“Princess, I particularly would like it if you engaged with Seth during this time. True understanding is found when you can teach it to someone else. When you are both equal in understanding the requisite theory, then we reach the point where you both can begin your initial use of Shadow Magic.”

“It's no issue to do so. I hope Seth will also help me when the time comes.” 

Nebthet had no doubt such a day would come with alarming swiftness, as she had been paying attention to him. The lessons she had arranged for him took place in the same room of her wing that she had her own lessons in. So while she couldn’t observe him as much without falling behind in her own schedule, it was easy enough to keep track of his aggressive progress. _It also helps that the tutors report to Kaaper and I, so I know_ **_they_ ** _think he’s learning at awe-inspiring speeds. There’s even some signs he might have an eidetic memory._

They had spent the remaining time talking about small, fundamental things that were rarely explained when magicians would just assume you knew why. The largest issue was hair, and why magicians weren’t allowed to shave their hair off when even sorcerers were required to do so.

“Shadow Magic is unlike other magic in how its effects can be seen manifesting in users of it. Funnily enough, we once thought all magicians were actually somehow related to the royal family. After all, for ages the only consistent users were from your bloodline Princess. However, that theory was laid to rest when High Priest Siamun was found to have a potent talent in Shadow Magic. As he had come from a state that lies between the rivers of Uruttu and Idiglat, where no child of Kemet possibly could have gone, it proved that Shadow Magic can be found in others with no relation to the royal family.

“But that’s an issue we will explore in a later lesson. Now, as I was saying, Shadow Magic can visibly affect magicians. The easiest and most distinctive way is with our hair, as possessing a gift in Shadow Magic means we are fortunate in that we will never suffer lice or any other such creature plaguing us. Magicians with strong talents in Shadow Magic can have naturally unusual hair colors, or perhaps their hair will naturally incline itself to certain forms and lengths without any external interference. 

“As you can see, my hair is as green as leaves and has a strangely distinct curling at the last finger length of my hair. No matter how I comb or wash it, the curl will not disappear nor will the color fade. As for why I don’t shave it all off… As you both know, it’s not allowed for magicians to do so. And it’s true that our hair serves as an identifying marker in many cases, but that is only part of the reason. 

“The primary reason is that our hair is the first thing to react to both magic and Shadow Magic. Whether it be it reacting to _you_ working with your personal power, or power being acted on you, your hair will be one of the first things to have an observable reaction. I’ve personally had a case where I knew I needed another magician to check my person for a curse, despite being unable to detect it myself, when my hair began to fall out in clumps. On the opposite end, I’ve been told my hair moves like it's been submerged underwater when I use my own power. 

“This reactivity is the ultimate reason why magicians aren’t allowed to shave their heads, so long as they have hair. If you speak to other magicians, they will have similar stories about how their hair’s reaction helped them to avoid a fatal accident. When you begin working with your own Shadow Magic, I’ll help you to identify how your hair reacts so you’ll know how to distinguish between it reacting to your power and other power.”

Zamonth had then continued lecturing about other signs of Shadow Magic manifestation, such as unnatural eye colors, before pointing out Seth’s rich brown hair was not as plain as it looked at first glance. To an experienced eye, it was easy to observe a sharp kink in his hair. “Much like how the Princess’ bangs have sharp kinks,” as the magician said. 

_But what about his eyes? That kind of blue is way more unnatural isn’t it? It’s so vivid and sharp, I’d have put it down as the manifestation. Not some subtle kink in his hair of all things…_

* * *

A month after successfully splitting into the subgroup, Nebthet privately concluded that Seth really was worth every single deben she needed to spend. She knew with her adult intelligence that she likely appeared as some sort of genius, but the real article was now in front of her. Seth, unlike her, _did_ have an eidetic memory and learned at a frankly alarming rate. If she wasn’t keeping him busy with several topics to be educated in, he would have easily caught up to her understanding in Shadow Magic theory in short order. As it was, his fearsome intuitive grasp was already having Zamonth looking at Seth like he was a delicious snack. 

_Unfortunately for the both of them, Seth’s official mentor is Userhet. Even when Akhenaden’s investigation concludes that will be the case. We can’t go around publicly humiliating Sacred Guardians, or war heroes, when we still need them. Otherwise… Knowing Akhenaden, I wouldn’t be surprised if Userhet was packed off to a frontier town to be forgotten. A year later, the town would tragically be raided by foreign aggressors, or bandits, and Userhet would be dead._

Though that might be too harsh on Akhenaden. Nebthet hadn’t seen any evidence of him disposing of those who failed him, or Kemet, after all. Just because she had never seen Menna again after that day, it didn’t mean the man hadn’t been demoted to some lowly position. Or just reassigned to somewhere where he wouldn’t be an eyesore.

There had, however, been one small hiccup with the scribe that had been appointed to round out Seth’s decent grasp of literacy. The scribe had had a good reputation and an excellent level of literacy, which had seen them recommended when Nebthet called for a literacy tutor. The initial assessment conducted by Hui - Nebthet wanted someone vetted by her, as Kaaper’s personality would skew the assessment - had made her seem like an excellent candidate to begin the process of giving Seth full mastery of the most advanced level of literacy. With Hui’s approval of the woman, she appointed her as Seth’s tutor. However, as Nebthet had found to her immense disgust, such a reputation had a caveat; the woman treated foreigners horribly. 

It was not something she had discovered immediately, as Seth did not protest his treatment. He stoically endured the insults and harsh teaching, as the woman took pains to behave anytime Nebthet might hear her hissing words. Perhaps the woman had taken the lack of censure as tacit approval, as she quickly escalated during a lesson and didn’t modulate her voice. 

“You half-breed spawn, can’t you even learn something so simple? Or is a civilized language beyond your barbaric mind? What even am I talking about, of course it is. Your whore of a mother must have wept to give birth to a welp like you. Perhaps pain will motivate you to put some effort into it-”

The raised tone had interrupted Nebthet’s own lesson in tax law, and when she incredulously turned her head to look at Seth across the room Nebthet felt her blood boil; the scribe was holding a rod in her raised hand. For the first time in ages, she raised her voice in a shout and rocketed to her feet “How dare you raise a hand to Seth!” 

Nebthet glared at the woman as she moved across the room, watching as the scribe paled and hastily lowered her hand. The stammered explanations and defenses meant little to her as the rod slipped out of the woman’s hands to clatter to the floor. Losing a brother to the war wasn’t an excuse to harm Seth, nor did she have any right to spew such vileness about his mother or him. 

“Aat, please fetch two of my guards.” 

Simultaneously two voices clashed “At once Princess.” “Your Highness, please!”

Nebthet didn’t say anything until the guards arrived rapidly, looking professionally blank as they bracketed the panicking scribe. “You’ve brought not only shame to yourself by acting so reprehensibly, but to my person as well. I am the Crown Princess of Kemet, and you have _humiliated me_ by treating Seth like this.”

The woman’s skin turned a satisfying grayish color in her horror, and her mouth opened and closed silently. “You are stripped of the honor of teaching the future Sacred Guardian, and banished from my service permanently. My guards will escort you to your superior in… Aat, which branch recommended her?”

“Royal Works, Your Highness.”

“Your superior in the Ministry of Royal Works. You will report everything you have done, and inform him I expect the results of the investigation into _all_ your professional conduct to be delivered to the Vizier. Seth is a future pillar of Kemet, the successor to the Rod, so it’s very possible this was in fact…Treasonous.”

Before the woman could faint, the guards grabbed her by the arms and shook her lightly. Until Nebthet gave her leave, falling unconscious wouldn’t be lightly permitted. “But first and foremost, on your knees scribe. Humbly apologize to Seth, his _honorable_ mother, and beg for forgiveness.”

As the woman was released to fall to her knees, bowing her head to the floor in front of Seth as she sobbed apologies, Nebthet met Seth’s eyes. For the first time, she felt she had earned a bit of his trust. There was hot, furious satisfaction in those cobalt eyes after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egyptian Notes:
> 
> 1\. Obviously, in Real World Egypt, there was never anything like the Sacred Guardians. Hence, this puts them in a very awkward position as they are High Priests that a) wield Items and b) also hold positions in court like officials. This is something you usually avoid like the plague unless you're being eaten alive by the priesthood (like New Kingdom and the Amun cult.) I tried my best to explain how it might work, but some details are being left out since Nebthet didn't go into it yet.  
> 2\. This is actually something I learned by stumbling into a topic called "architecture of power", which dissects how palaces and such are set up in reflection of the respective culture. Ancient Egyptian palaces were set up akin to temples, in that there was increasingly restricted access and intimacy, and to help reinforce King=Living God. It's pretty interesting, as they also go into how artwork and such can explain how rulers tried to project their power, legitimacy, and prestige via choices in decor.  
> 3\. Reputation is very, very important for kingdoms. Sometimes it's worse to be embarrassed and lose face than anything else, since the lose of reputation introduces doubt and instability. So kingdoms will go to very large lengths to avoid embarrassment and to hush up such incidents.  
> 4\. Patronage was something EXTREMELY big with the Romans, but it's always been a thing. Smart royals/nobles/rich people invest in people and resources instead of hoarding money pointlessly. The reason why Akhenaden doesn't give Nebthet an increase in budget is that it would weaken and compromise her patronage of Seth, as it's no longer her paying for him.  
> 5\. The Euphrates and Tigris rivers were not, actually, named as such. Those are their Greek names! Respectively, in this time, they'd be known as the Uruttu and Idiglat.  
> 6\. Hair is, in Real Life, one of the easy ways to check for sudden changes in health. So with magic being real, it becomes very important as a visual marker! Especially since having Shadow Magic means you will never have lice, fleas, etc. Pretty much nothing natural and/or living will get near you ever, so unlike any other Egyptian they don't need to shave for hygiene.  
> 7\. I feel Shadow Magic having the ability to affect hair is very plausible, as those heavily involved have unnatural hair that's natural. Those supercharged on Shadow Magic have exceedingly buckwild hair. A good example is actually Yami Malik and Bakura, as both sport much more unnatural hair than their hosts do.  
> 8\. Shadow Magic affecting eye color goes back to #7, as purple eyes are not natural. Nor are red, cyan, or cobalt blue.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been delayed by: Researching the Amarna Letters!  
> Soon we'll be timeskipping again. I promise we're not gonna spend forever in childhood. Also I'm considering maybe doing other POVs soonish.

After gaining that initial bit of trust, things slowly began to change for her relationship with Seth. She had very clearly demonstrated she was willing to support him not only in education, but also in social matters; there was also the fact she had gone so far as to publicly declare that her reputation was connected to him. So long as he remained in her patronage, to insult and disrespect Seth was now to insult and disrespect the Crown Princess of Kemet. _Though that wasn’t exactly something I thought out beforehand. My temper got the better of me, and I need to ensure it doesn’t happen again. I can work with what I’ve done this time, but… This isn’t something I can retract. I’d permanently ruin whatever relationship I might build with Seth, the genius successor to the Rod, as well as Seth the person, if I tried backpedaling._

Seth had seemed silently bewildered and wary of her the next day, after the debacle with his former tutor. He came to her wing with a new, decent shendyt that was obviously chosen for a boy of status that was going through growth spurts; it hung to mid-calf, instead of covering his thighs. And when she had eyed his supplies, she found a fine, but not lavish, scribe’s toolkit and decent papyrus in place of his previous things. _It’s good to have competent subordinates who understand the situation, and don’t need micromanaging._

She waited patiently for Seth to adjust to his sudden change in fortunes, as her intent to approach him with respect to his pride and wariness had been superseded by her impulsive declaration. Finery and riches had been forced on him before he was ready or trusting, because there was no way he could be allowed to look so shabby and poorly kept when Nebthet had said such things in public. It would have reflected poorly on Nebthet for declaring such, and then refusing to follow through. That, or have infuriated and insulted her entire power-base for Seth to “purposefully shame Crown Princess Nebthet and mar her reputation” by continuing to appear so.

_I’ll give it till a week after our birthday banquet to see if he approaches me. If not, I might have misread his determination, drive, and that steel spine… Or reminded him too strongly that I am Crown Princess, daughter of a living god and the future wife of one. It’s too hard to say what exactly holds him back; he’s like Akhenaden in how tightly he can keep his true thoughts to himself._

Nebthet also took note of how all of her power-base treated Seth more carefully and respectfully, no matter how frugal his appearance. Servants, low ranked scribes, and handmaidens were now mindful of his status, putting him above them. Even her highest ranked people treated him differently, despite the fact that he _might_ be considered their equal for the moment. Hui had acted without explicit orders to arrange for a small, private set of rooms for Seth, near the priests who tended to the cult temples that resided in the palace grounds. Harisese had begun to personally tutor Seth in magic theory, and Kaaper had deigned to notice Seth enough to lay out a formal schedule for the preteen’s education. 

Seth adjusted to the shift in social dynamics well, so far as she could tell. Aside from the wariness directed towards herself, he accepted the new deference naturally, was not overawed by the sudden respect shown, nor did anything that would garner critique. His reticent, stern nature served him well, as did his impressive control over himself.

But as she was waiting for Seth to adjust and approach her, Nebthet did find it interesting that Akhenaden did not breathe a word of the debacle during their next meeting. It was irregular to say the least, since he usually desired to hear of her thought process in nearly any situation. It was even more unusual that, when she asked them to quietly inquire, neither Hui nor Behenu could find so much as a whisper about the woman. There was minimal evidence of a quiet investigation that had been conducted into old matters, ones that possibly had involved the scribe, but it was utterly inconclusive. It was like she had vanished into the desert, yet with no explanation the superior that had been her mentor was knocked down several pegs in the Ministry of Royal Works. 

_With such a level of secrecy involved in whatever he did to her, Akhenaden must have discovered many more incidents. Perhaps ones that would be embarrassing to have known, instead of quietly handled. Or maybe he’s venting? If it’s about his investigation into Userhet, I doubt he can truly settle accounts with the Guardian… I guess I’ll find out one way or another if Akhenaden can hold a grudge. And how terribly such a grudge might be avenged._

* * *

Nebthet’s ninth birthday banquet is much like the ones before it. There is feasting, the unique awkwardness brought about by her father, her uncle, and her brother, with the later end of the banquet being oriented around receiving the gifts given to them. She supposes there is something to note in how this is the first year that the future successors to the Items sit next to their mentors. Userhet and Seth act as though the other does not exist; or at minimum, does not speak the same language. _How ironic to feel some kinship with Userhet. Seth’s yet to say a word to me as well._

But what makes it truly different is that this year, she’s shocked to see foreigners lining up to present gifts to them. They make a small retinue of no more than ten men from what she can see, with three men taking a position of prominence. The others, possibly guards or servants, remain behind the trio. The trio of men wear long, heavy ensembles that look both ill designed for Kemet and reminiscent of a woman’s kalasiris. As they draw closer Nebthet can spot more differences. They have carefully maintained long beards, shoulder length hair that curls too perfectly to be natural, and very lavish scarves. _Ah, Sumerians. The scarf is unique to them according to my lessons, and the mere presence of the item indicates these are men of higher rank. I’ll need to see if I can guess which city-state, and their rank, they come from based on the scarf. I’m sure my tutors will hear about it and quiz me on this. Them, or Akhenaden._

Their presence was not one she had anticipated in the slightest. Atem was only nine, too young to really attempt to curry favor and alliance with. No matter her twin’s status as Akhenamkhanen’s successor, her father was a healthy man and a magician to boot. Which meant they weren’t really here for Atem; or her, on second thought. Regardless of her father’s clear disinterest in her, she remained engaged to Atem.

_So, they’re using this as a pretext to get close to the King and possibly gain some good will via giving lavish gifts to his children. A clever tactic, but one with considerable risk. I’m not familiar enough with Akhenamkhanen to say how he’ll react to such a plot; or if he’s capable of recognizing their obvious motive. As for myself, the gifts might be a good way to judge how well informed they, or their city-state, are. If politics weren’t the complex beast they are, I could be definite on that it_ **_is_ ** _a good way to judge. But a bad gift might be an intentional insult or threat, not merely chosen carelessly._

“Greetings to their Highnesses and the glorious King of Kemet, Son of the Sun, on behalf of our beloved King En-hegal, whom is much beloved by Fair Nanshe and who rules the peerless Lagash! We humbly congratulate their Highnesses for reaching nine years of age!”

The man with the most ornate scarf spoke this greeting in Sumerian with a deep, rich, rumbling voice. However, it seemed as though he was not conversant in Egyptian, as the man with the least ornate scarf then repeated the greeting in slow, accented Egyptian. Nebthet was then very surprised when her father didn’t take charge of this diplomatic incident, nor allowed Akhenaden to do so for him. Instead, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him first gesture to Akhenaden before putting a fatherly hand on Atem’s shoulder in a move for her twin to assume control.

All of Nebthet’s lessons said this was going against protocol, as this was very clearly a matter of state. Matters of state should thus be handled either by the Vizier or the King, since it concerned their relationship with Lagash and potentially their reputation in Sumer. But, she conceded with a faint sense of unease, it was possible Akhenamkhanen was either putting on a display of Atem being his certain successor or declaring he wasn’t entertaining their ploy.

“Many thanks,” Her heavily kohled twin said, in a voice that wasn’t circumspect about his disinterest with their pomp and ceremony. “You have traveled here to give us gifts, correct? Let us see them.”

Atem’s words seemed to have no effect on the subtly smiling man with the most lavish scarf, but the translator wasn’t practiced in keeping his face straight. Nebthet caught the offense at Atem’s words before he wiped it away and translated what her twin said. The man with the most lavish scarf only chuckled lightly, before continuing in Sumerian.

“ His Highness is so fierce! Perhaps he takes after his late grandfather? We of Lagash remember his mighty nature, and the friendship he extended to us. Let us present to you your gifts then! Come slaves! Present yourselves and the gifts! ”

Nebthet only had a moment to realize how badly this was likely to turn out, before the man clapped his hands thrice. With the cue, four nude women emerged from the small retinue that had hidden them from casual view. In their hands were lavish works of art in the form of instruments, but Nebthet’s eyes weren’t on the instruments.

Normally, in Kemet, a nude woman would be nothing to really note. Several servants, particularly washerwomen and men, chose to go nude even when they had clothing available. It was something Nebthet had adapted to, and no longer really noticed nor had issue with; nudity was just a part of life. But these women were all but forcing themselves not to cringe from shame, their posture stiff in a way that was unnatural. _Fuck, I think two of them might be young teens that developed too quickly for their own good. And…_ **_Really_ ** _? They not only rouged their lips, but their nipples too? No wonder even the adult women are as embarrassed as the teens; cattle are given more dignity than this. Just what is Lagash up to with such “gifts”?_

The man then continued to speak once the slaves had assembled. “I, Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl, present to His Highness his gifts. Each beauty here is of immense skill, especially trained in many arts. But most importantly the art of music! Come, come, let me give you a demonstration!”

The translator dutifully repeated Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl’s words in Egyptian, not deviating even slightly, and Nebthet had to keep ahold of herself as she could see her father tense at the word “slave.” _…Please tell me I’m imagining this, and Ahkenamkhanen is just not very fluent in conversational Sumerian. Because how can he_ **_not_ ** _know it? I’ve learned it! I’m not even the heir to the throne! Fuck. If he doesn’t know it, does that mean Atem hasn’t been taught it either?_

Before Atem could get another word out, one of the older slave women leaped into performing. Setting her silver lyre on the floor, she sank into a playing position with stiff grace. But the music she made was just as immensely masterful as Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl had boasted. It was also one Nebthet recognized from her first life, adapted for this instrument.

She could have been knocked over with a feather, she was so shocked by what she was hearing. _The melody is unmistakable! There is no way it could be a coincidence that a woman of this time knows how to play that song!_ Nebthet had resolved herself to living in this time, this world, all those years ago… But now with the sudden appearance of someone who might be similar to her, she wanted nothing more than to have this miracle be real.

When the lovely playing ended, Atem spoke with a tone that made it clear how dissatisfied he was. “I suppose my sister will enjoy this gift, but I certainly don’t want musicians. Sister, will you take them?”

_I forgive you for all those times you tossed my papyrus scrolls into the pond Atem._

“They are lovely girls, and skilled enough I’m willing to find a place in my household for them. Thank you for the birthday gift, brother.” She said smoothly, with a blank face even Akhenaden wouldn’t find fault with. Then, putting her years of lessons in Sumerian to use, Nebthet began to speak to Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl. “Such a generous gift truly displays Lagash’s friendship to Kemet and my father. Come, bring out your other gifts. Perhaps they will be more to my brother’s tastes and we will all be satisfied.”

Despite a persistent and notable accent, she’d gotten quite close to fluency by now. Which, she noted in how Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl’s eyes widened slightly as his subtle smile twitched once, was a surprise. _Though it could be that I’m speaking at all. Sumer is not Kemet, and I’d rather be a woman here than there._

“ Your Highness, you honor me by speaking in my language! It’s remarkable how smoothly you do so, almost like you were a child of my beloved homeland.  ” Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl said smoothly, without any true sign that she might have shocked him. “  But of course, His Highness is of rarefied tastes. I humbly hope our other gifts please him more. ”

Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl clapped thrice again, and this time the rest of the retinue behind him came forward with ornate cypress boxes that were lovingly inlaid with lighter toned woods. Each man then opened the box they held for Atem to behold the contents: inside were a variety of what she believed to be games that weren’t native to Kemet.

“Yes, this is a much better gift! I look forward to playing these! I trust you included instructions on how the games are played? Puzzling them out would be most amusing, but I would prefer to know the actual rules.”

Nebthet now put down the gift of the slaves as a calculated insult, since this demonstrated that Lagash’s monarchy somehow had gotten word of just how much Atem enjoyed games. It was well known in the palace that her twin had a passion for board games like senet, hounds and jackals, and so on. It was to the point even someone that interacted little with Atem, like Nebthet, knew about it. But for a Sumerian city-state to know of this? A _distant_ city-state, according to her geography lessons? It meant they absolutely knew just how much Akhenamkhanen would despise such a gift; especially since the older women almost certainly were meant to be “available” for her father’s possible carnal interest. 

She also noted the fact Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl had not brought anything for her, either as another insult – adding onto the personal insult of gifting women to her betrothed before they’d married – or because he genuinely thought it wouldn’t be expected. But when the back-and-forth between her twin and Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl via translator revealed that Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl had purposefully decided _not_ to write down instructions because he “hoped to personally instruct His Highness,” Akhenamkhanen took over.

His dismissal was swift, with no consideration for diplomacy, and to the point. “My son has no time for you. You have given your gifts, now return to your place.” _If Lagash hoped to get anything out of this beyond actually making Akhenamkhanen look_ **_mad_ ** _… Well, that’s gone. I doubt even Akhnaden could get him to give them a cup of water if they were dying of thirst. Not that I think Akhnaden would help them after this, but still._

Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl seemed unbothered by the harsh rebuke, once it was translated, still smiling that subtle smile. He even had the brazenness to ignore the clear indication that he should shut up and remove himself from her father’s furious gaze, giving an elegant farewell in Sumerian.

“ Ah, a thousand and a thousand more tears I must shed now! Truly it is worthy of all lamentation that I will not get to speak with His Highness more, and after our long journey to these lands too! But I console myself with the deep, abiding friendship and brotherhood between our magnificent King En-hegal and the Sons of the Sun. These feelings shall never fade or falter, not by sands or time. Farewell King! Farewell Highnesses! Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl shall return to Lagash and think of you fondly. ”

With the translator faithfully reciting Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl’s words in Egyptian, the Sumerians deposited their gifts alongside the ones previously given before directly leaving the banquet with utmost rudeness. It was impressive, Nebthet had to admit. Few men would have the guts to infuriate and insult a king to such a degree without some sort of visible deterrent to keep the king from having them tortured or beheaded. _Though I doubt Akhenamkhanen would ever order either, after how he handled this. He let Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl and his retinue walk out of here unmolested, or without even giving a decent insult in return! No sense of Royal Pride, not at all._

The naked slave women remained where they had been left, blatantly scared as they clearly understood the situation Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl left behind. With the banquet quite clearly over– considering that Akhenamkhanen had stood up and escorted a protesting Atem out of the room a few moments ago – Nebthet let Akhenaden know that she would handle her new household members if he would handle the rest. With his terse agreement, she moved over to the frozen women. “ You have been given to me, so you will follow my commands. Can any of you speak or read Egyptian? ”

One of the older women, the one who did not play that song, quietly spoke up with a waver to her voice. “Your Highness, forgive us but we do not speak that language. At most we know a few words. Have mercy on us for our incompetence, Your Highness, we will work without rest to learn your majestic language.”

_How meticulous that Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl is, or his master is. Every chance to offer insult was exploited with a smile!_ After all, what use was a slave if they couldn’t understand your commands? No matter how masterful the women were in whatever skills they had, you’d get nothing from them if your commands were a waste of breath. _Though if my father was more of a typical King, or if Kemet was more like Sumer, I suppose you wouldn’t need to understand his words to know what he wanted when you were tossed onto the bed…_

“Firstly, what are your names?”

“Our humble names are not fit to enter your ears Your Highness, but if you wish to know them then I shall obey. I am  Mannam-luplaḫ,  and the slave on the floor is Bēlī-tajjār. The younger slaves were not given new names by Lord Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl, so they still have the names their old mistresses, Princess  Kanšassu-mātum  , gave them.  Amat-ilija holds the wooden lyre, and Bēltī-rimenni holds the silver pipes.”

Nebthet once again had to be impressed by the meticulous attention to detail shown when it came to insults. He had even renamed the women with names that declared they were meant to serve Akhenamkhanen. “Whom should I fear” and “My lord is forgiving” were blatant, whereas “Slave girl of my god” and “My lady have mercy on me” were appropriate for slaves to a Sumerian princess.

“ All of you, gather your instruments and follow me. We will continue our discussion in my wing of the palace. ”

Without a whisper of protest, all four of them silently followed her instructions perfectly. They didn’t make so much as a peep the entire time it took to get to her wing, which Nebthet took advantage of to get her thoughts in order. _Now, obviously I’ll need to draft a document declaring their freedom… I think. **Is** there a procedure to be followed? I don’t know if anyone else has tried gifting slaves to the royal family since the ban was put into place. I’ll check with Behenu, and she can get in touch with the Judiciary if she isn’t certain. They’ll also need someone to help them learn Egyptian, preferably a low ranked scribe who’s conversant in Sumerian. At worst, I’ll dragoon my Sumerian tutor. _

“Princess! You’re back so early? And who are these women?”

Knocked out of her thoughts by Hui, Nebthet looked up at her concerned face. “Hui, there was an incident at the banquet. The King was infuriated and left early with my brother. But for the moment, these ladies need tunics or kalasirises fetched for wearing, while I have a chat with them.”

Looking even more concerned now, Hui gave a nod before going to arrange for the clothes Nebthet requested. Nebthet then continued walking towards her sitting area, where she took a seat on a wooden chair as the four women stood with instruments in hand.

“ I am uncertain of what you know of my lands, but we shall get to that in due time. To begin with, in case Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl didn’t inform you, I am Crown Princess Nebthet. Answer me honestly, do you wish to keep the names  Mannam-luplaḫ  introduced you with? ”

The younger women looked more nervous than the older ones, but as the seconds passed the need for an answer became pressing. Very soon, they'd be "refusing to answer their master." Nebthet then spotted how the woman subtly gulped in nerves, yet Mannam-luplaḫ continued to be the spokeswoman for the group as she said, “ If Your Highness would allow it, I believe we would like to keep our names. ”

Nebthet was pleased they’d gotten that detail settled, because if they’d asked for her to give them new names… Well, they’d have been there a while. She was terrible at naming things. “ Then you shall. ”

Cyan eyes stared at Bēlī-tajjār, the woman who had played the impossible song from the future. Perhaps it would be more prudent to wait until she had settled things. But to hell with waiting longer, she wanted to know _now._

“Bēlī-tajjār,  the song you played for the demonstration was familiar to me. Tell me, ” With ease, Nebthet switched back to English for the first time in years. “Do you recognize this language? The English language?”

Bēlī-tajjār gave her a nervously confused look. “Your Highness? Many apologies, but I don’t understand what you asked.”

The anticipation and hope that had grown since Nebthet heard the song, it began to crumble slightly at her nervous words. How could she know the song without knowing what English sounded like? She didn’t need to be able to speak it, because just the language alone should have had a fellow reincarnation clue into the fact they were not alone.

“Are you sure? Where then did you learn that song?”

The woman bit her lip and bowed low. “ I beg your forgiveness but I really don’t know or understand that language. Before I was sold to cover debts, I was hoping to enter the service of the goddess Kulitta. Ever since I was little, I have dreamed of heavenly music and I wished to dedicate myself to the goddess for her blessing. The song I heard in my dreams, and I worked to adapt it to my lyre. ”

It felt like a yawning crevasse had opened up in her heart at the woman’s honest words. She had no reason to lie, not when she would understand the value in establishing kinship with a Crown Princess. If Bēlī-tajjār was a reincarnation, then she was a legitimate one who remembered nothing of her previous life.

Nebthet then sighed heavily, before forcing herself to put her disappointment and loss aside. She had work to do, and these women needed her to give them a stable foundation. But before she resumed being a dutiful Crown Princess with new additions to her household, Nebthet had a quiet thought.

_…In hindsight, the song is quite ironic. “Never Coming Back” indeed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egyptian Notes:
> 
> 1\. "To insult him is to insult me" is a very big declaration, and carries a lot of weight. Generally you use this on your most important subordinates and allies. Nebthet really did jump the gun on saying this so soon, though Seth does have the inherent potential to be her most important subordinate/ally. He is a genius successor to an Item after all.  
> 2\. Once more, fashion is a very big deal! Sumerian dress code is interesting because during this time period, scarves were *the* big deal accessory. The mere presence of one said you had some importance, and the better it was, the more intricate its detail/embroidery, the longer the fringe, the higher you were.  
> 3\. After researching the Amarna Letters, I put together Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl's dialogue based on how flowery they could get. And yes, they could be just as insulting! If not much more in your face, since generally Kings had no problem insulting one another boldly via letter. Or asking for gold as gifts.  
> 4\. Atem is being rude, but not in the way royalty is supposed to be rude. Akhenamkhanen's intent to insult the Lagash contingent kinda bit him a little, since while he did insult them by having his 9 year old son handle it... Atem sounds like an "idle prince" and not a Heir Presumptive.  
> 5\. Grandfather, and King, Ankhmare will be coming up more in the future since the consequences of his reign are still echoing down to the present.  
> 6\. Sumerian women, unlike the ones in Kemet, did not go nude. Period. So yeah, they're all very humiliated and embarrassed by this.  
> 7\. I'm going to be including a number of YT links in this note, as they're much more demonstrative in how the reconstructed instruments would sound.... Except the silver pipes. I'm not going to inflict the silver pipes on my readers. So the song in question is "Never Coming Back", which is preformed on a harp here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpCXYPJZ18I . However, in the story it was modified so it could be played on the Sumerian Silver Lyre. Otherwise known as the "Silver Lyre of Ur", as it was found in the royal graveyards in Ur, here is a reconstruction of the instrument: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JU4QRxsZhjg . Peter Pringle also included how he constructed his replica of the lyre in the description if you wish to know more.  
> Mannam-luplaḫ's instrument is the Chogha Mish Harp: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fXZtMtzhYgM , and Amat-ilija's is this wooden lyre: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XP7-AphqdYk .  
> 8\. To my aggravation, trying to find a list of Sumerian names was like looking for a needle in a haystack since I didn't want the king list. My best result came from an academic paper published in 1991, and is specifically for Old Babylonian names... I took what I had to work with! Now, if you want to read the paper itself, here is the link: http://www.sel.cchs.csic.es/sites/default/files/14stol_953ec60c.pdf  
> Technically I already provided the translations for the ex-slaves' names, but for completion here is all the named Sumerians.  
> Bēlī-tajjār (My lord is forgiving)  
> Mannam-luplaḫ (Whom should I fear?)  
> Bēltī-rimenni (My lady have mercy on me)  
> Amat-ilija (Slave girl of my god)  
> Kanšassu-mātum (The land has bowed down for Him[the King])  
> Shamash-lēqi-unnīnnl (Shamash accepts my supplications)  
> 9\. Is Bēlī-tajjār a true reincarnation? Well, YGO confirms that there is actual, real Egyptian Gods (not touching later series thanks.) Which means there's certainly the possibility that Kulitta exists and did bless poor Bēlī-tajjār with musical inspiration. I'll leave it up to the reader as to what you believe. ~~It's not the important bit either way.~~


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came a lot quicker, since it required less research. Though I gotta say, watcing/rewatching the Ancient Egypt D&D episodes is an exercise in hilarity.  
> I am curious how interested everyone is in potentially getting a short POV from someone else?

Freeing her new household members was a more labor-intensive task than Nebthet had originally anticipated. While she could, technically, just issue a proclamation as their nominal owner that she had freed them, there was the fact she did not have their original slave contracts. There also were the facts they’d been part of a diplomatic incident, were not originally citizens of Kemet, and there’d been no one stupid or brave enough to gift slaves to anyone in Kemet’s government since Akhenamkhanen’s ban.

Thus Nebthet, her entourage, and the Judiciary, got the honor of laying out the procedures that would be followed for future events. Nebthet had blissfully managed – for once in her life – to put most of the burden on her scribes, but had meddled by insisting on including automatic citizenship for foreign slaves. Kemet certainly could not toss them out, like they eventually did with the prisoners of war that weren’t ransomed; not without their reputation getting smeared with accusations of “ungrateful,” “callous,” “uncivilized” for treating “gifts” that way. _Or at least that’s the reasoning that’ll ensure no one challenges it. In reality, we’d just be heartless to try tossing them back at their old countries. They’d at best be re-enslaved, but more likely would be killed either in anger or to further blacken our reputation at that point._

Getting all that sorted out took an entire week of shoving meetings into her schedule, which enraged Kaaper greatly. Yet the old scribe had shown a tiny modicum of pity by swallowing his bellowing when the four women had started shaking in fear. It was a side of the old man Nebthet had never seen, considering he’s insulted royalty on a daily basis ever since he’d been assigned to her as a young child. He, of course, grumbled something about his “throat hurting too much to properly express his dissatisfaction with her oafish assassination of his tightly regimented schedule.” But since Nebthet had actually seen him shout himself into being unable to speak over her handwriting, she had to put it down as the crotchety man actually having a soft spot. Somewhere.

With everything settled and procedure established, Nebthet used Aat – the poor scribe who had been given the honor of heading this impromptu project on her behalf – to inform the Judiciary that Crown Princess Nebthet had been given slaves by a diplomat during her birthday banquet. The Judiciary sent back a scribe to confirm this, and they then went thoroughly through the motions. Aat scuttled back and forth between her wing and the Judiciary halls, following the new procedures on freeing slaves who had been gifted in direct opposition of King Akhenamkhanen’s ban. Following everything to the letter took two days, as the Judiciary sorted everything out, recorded the freeing of four slaves, the subsequent royal grace of allowing them to become citizens of Kemet, and issued copies of rough papyrus for the women to keep as proof of their emancipation.

Nebthet let the women keep their dignity by pretending she didn’t see or hear the sobbing inspired by her explanation of exactly what was going on. When the women were more composed, and dried their eyes as best they could on their very modest tunics, she confirmed again that she was still taking them into her household. They would not want for clothing, food, shelter, or language lessons.

“I would prefer that you all did a task that brings you satisfaction, or at least isn’t something you hate. If being a musician isn’t what you want, speak now. Otherwise, Hui will be introducing you to my trio of musicians.”

“ Your Highness,  ” Mannam-luplaḫ replied with a hoarse voice, “  We all would be honored to remain as musicians. ”

 _Hopefully the other three don’t become too dependent on Mannam-luplaḫ. At this rate they might just become co-dependent._ “ Good. I did enjoy your instruments, though, Bēltī-rimenni if you know another instrument…Please switch to it in the future. I do not find the silver pipes enjoyable to listen to, and Hui reported that most of the household holds the same view. Bēlī-tajjār, I hope you will work together with my other musicians to make new music with the instruments of both lands. Your inspiration shouldn’t go to waste. ”

With a few more words of encouragement to the women, especially the crestfallen Bēltī-rimenni, Nebthet called in one of the few female scribes who was conversant in Sumerian. It would have been much easier and quicker to find a man who spoke the language, since it was expedient to avoid having to navigate Sumerian views of women if possible. But the extra consideration for the comparatively-shy women wouldn’t hurt anything. They’d all be housed together too, to hopefully shorten the time they’d need to get their conversational feet underneath them. Writing was something tentatively on the table, mostly since Nebthet would like to see if Bēlī-tajjār’s gift extended to being able to figure out musical notation.

_Literacy for itself isn’t something they’ll need in their line of work, especially not when they’re having to learn Egyptian on the go. And as much as my modern upbringing lets me know universal education, investing in your population, means increasing returns… I’ve got no damn room to try that. Not in my schedule, nor will I have the room to try even suggesting it. If Seth does as spectacularly as I anticipate, he’ll be an example of “diamonds in the rough” we might be missing out on…Though I’d swear the priesthood universally already has some method of looking for magically gifted-_

“Princess.”

Startled from her musing over potential future plans, Nebthet wondered exactly when Seth had gotten here. She knew she could get caught up inside her head, but was Seth that quiet of a mover? “Yes Seth? What is it?”

Cobalt eyes locked with her own, and for the first time Nebthet got a very clear feeling of Seth shaking off his normal careful attitude. It was something in his posture, his expression and tone, that carried an air of someone talking to an equal. She found it novel for anyone to find her their equal, then found the novelty quietly depressing. 

“Princess, do you have some time to spare for me? I would like to speak with you.”

 _Oh? Is this what I think it is?_ Mentally reviewing the schedule for today, Nebthet felt she did have time to spare. Kaaper had scheduled a generous amount of time for her meeting with the Sumerian musicians and it had been handled quicker than she had anticipated. And more importantly, she didn’t have anything for the rest of today that couldn’t be pushed back if need be. _I’ve no idea if he’ll willingly approach me again if I cut this short. Hell, I’m not sure what even prompted this. Better to seize the moment while I have it._

“Indeed, I do. Please take a seat wherever you like.”

Seth surprised her slightly by choosing an elegant chair that was quite close to her own. It lent a more private, intimate air to this impromptu meeting, and if Nebthet was right it was also to further assert himself. Instead of sitting across from her in a chair that might make him look like a subordinate or supplicant, he was sitting close to her side.

“You’ve been waiting for me.” He stated, without any sign he was fishing for confirmation. “How much longer were you going to do that?”

 _Hmm, I think I underestimated how adept he is at reading social dynamics…Or something along those lines. Can he brute force it by analyzing and reviewing his eidetic memory of things until he starts getting results? Then extrapolate from there until he’s got a self-made gift for it?_ If so, then that really was quite a brain he was blessed with; enough to make Nebthet jealous. 

“If you didn’t approach me sometime this week, then I would have moved.” Nebthet admitted honestly. “I let my temper get the better of me and ruined my original plans, so I’ve been working with what I have.”

That earned her a blink and a faint frown. “Original plans?”

At the sight of the frown, Nebthet made the executive decision to conduct this in a similar vein as her meetings with Akhenaden. Simply because if she explained her thought processes, then it was less likely Seth would wind up with a misunderstanding. 

“Not to be arrogant, but I am Crown Princess of Kemet and I am _aware_ of it. Before Userhet selected you as his successor, the differences in our stations were vast. Technically they still are, as you don’t have your own power-base yet.” Seth nodded, but something in his expression seemed eased at her certainty that he would one day. But it was so slight it might be due to something else; Nebthet wasn’t a social savant.

“Why then would I have a reason to involve myself with you? Even if the reason was benevolent in the end, I might unintentionally leave you in a worse position or lose interest after you preemptively invested in me. You had no reason to trust me, and I understood that what I want wouldn’t happen if I didn’t respect your own pride and dignity. So, my original plan was to…” 

Nebthet paused to think through her words, before continuing “Well, offer you the one thing I didn’t think you’d turn down no matter how much you distrusted me. Over time you’d see I was serious, consistent, and hopefully worthy of enough trust for us to speak like this.”

Seth gave a quiet “hmm” of thought at her explanation, and Nebthet easily let him take the time he needed to absorb her words. There was no telling what impressions she had personally given him, and whatever he’d gathered through months of observation. While Seth was contemplating, and likely re-contextualizing events, Nebthet idly observed him further. _He looks better than he did in the first lessons. I want to say he looks less brittle, but that might be thanks to no longer needing to worry about being visibly of less privilege than everyone else. Would Userhet have stupidly persisted until Seth was forced to go naked? Probably, he was stupid enough to have permanently ruined his relationship with Seth… And likely Akhenaden, if he’s as displeased as I think he is. But then, Seth’s smart and able. He might have been able to conceal the real situation for some time, maybe by earning money by quietly working as a servant. Of course, that would have had a number of negative consequences…_

“I see. So, Princess, why? Why go to so much effort, and for what?” He spoke suddenly, knocking her out of her thoughts again.

Nebthet considered her words, before deciding she needed to push just a little. While she did need to refrain from acting hastily, she also shouldn’t be too casual. They simply weren’t that close as of now. “Hmm... I have no problem explaining, but why don’t you tell me what you think first? Why would I, what for?”

Seth’s lips hooked up slightly at her words, but what exactly about this had earned the first smile she’d ever seen on his face was beyond her. “Very well. You did answer my first question thoroughly. Initially I supposed it was pity, or an over-inflated sense of importance, driving you to use me to get an advantage over your brother or my “mentor.” He declined to interact with you, and even used many of the initial teacher’s question sessions to make you look foolish. And Userhet is the wielder of the Rod, having something over him would be valuable.”

Nebthet had to think back for a moment to remember Atem _had_ been showing off just how very advanced he was. She hadn’t kept a strict tally of how often he had showed off after she’d answered, because it was such a minor thing… But Seth apparently had. Enough to think he was being prepared as an instrument of revenge against her brother.

“I discarded your brother as a motivation quickly however, because you never seemed to pay it note. And our first meeting indicated you were thinking farther ahead than immediate payback, and aiming at Userhet. When I didn’t offer up anything of use, I thought it would be the end of your interest in me. But then you offered,” He smirked for a moment “The one thing I couldn’t turn down, in what I thought was a bribe.”

She smiled quietly back at him for rephrasing her words.

“However, you didn’t intervene further. You weren’t overseeing me, nor were you trying to coax me. Instead, you did exactly as you promised and went about your very, very busy life Princess. In fact, I don’t think you’ve _ever_ lied to me.”

Nebthet nodded slightly at the slight questioning look he gave her; despite the fact he was confident to state it as fact. “Lying is something I avoid. I need my word to be valued and honored, so if I was going to lie…it had better be worth the risk of it being found out, and the potential consequences of being found out have to be less than whatever benefits the lie brings.”

Seth looked satisfied with her answer, and continued on “I didn’t think you were sincerely interested in myself until your loss of temper, and how you forced her to apologize. Everything afterwards…It only confirmed it. Now, as for what I think of why and what for,” This time Seth paused, looking her in the eyes before continuing, “You’re thinking of the future, far to the future. You chose me because I not only have the background that means I lack the advantages of all other candidates, but I’ve shown qualities you find worth your investment. What you want, is a Guardian to be as partial to you as Mahad is to His Highness.”

Nebthet smiled at him, because that really was very insightful. Not wholly correct, but it was close enough. _He really is impressive, that’d be completely accurate if I was raised in this time originally._ “You have a good grasp Seth, but your thinking is…Well, it’s right but wrong at the same time.”

Seth frowned, eyes narrowing in confusion before she held a hand up to stall his response. “Let me explain. Your reasons are right because they’re part of why I would go to such lengths. But they’re not the whole reason, hence why it’s also wrong. Ultimately, yes, I’ve invested in you because you are the future successor to the Rod and you have shown several qualities I find valuable. If we grow closer to one another, developing a relationship comparable in closeness to my brother and Mahad, then it will be a pleasant surprise. The Guardians are perhaps the closest I will get to having a social equal, and I would be lucky if I could find a close friend in you.”

His expression cleared up the more she spoke, but the true signs of surprise were when she talked about becoming friends. Seth’s eyes widened, eyebrows arching high as his mouth relaxed into a neutral line.

“But you _could_ have made it without my meddling. The very qualities I find valuable would enable you to claw your way up on your own; eventually. It’s just that to force you to do so would have been a failure on all our parts. Time you could have spent on educating yourself, preparing to succeed Userhet, forming the beginnings of your power-base, would have been wasted on just trying to survive without any backing or funds.”

Nebthet took a breath to calm herself slightly, as her voice had been slowly rising as she continued to speak, before continuing “I had the power and resources to ensure you didn’t need to face it, so I gave you the ability to avoid that hardship. Any further investment will be something we will have to discuss together.”

Seth stared at her silently for a minute, still looking utterly surprised, before his face softened into something that had a faint tinge of fondness to it. “You are… a dutiful person Princess. Does your brother care so attentively for his subordinates as well?”

She shrugged lightly, “I wouldn’t know. We’ve spent so little time together that I wouldn’t be surprised if Atem couldn’t recognize me if we weren’t twins.”

He gave another quiet “hmm” at that, before saying “So, Princess, shall we discuss further…Cooperation?”

Nebthet smiled at the replacement of “investment” with “cooperation.” If he was interested in investing in her as well, then perhaps they might just become friends one day. She’d like to have a friend again.

“Yes Seth. Let’s discuss it.”

* * *

That night, her dreams were once again chaos. Construct rarely appeared nowadays, having even forgone the old “visits” where it would amuse itself at Nebthet’s expense every month or so. Valuable information, she’d learned, was not something Construct usually gave away. Those couple of times it had done so were, in hindsight, rare events.

Once again sight wasn’t featured in this chaotic, muddled dream. All there was, was the sounds. The metallic bird cries, the basso roars, and the metallic thrumming of plucked wires. Sometimes she thought she could hear words beneath these sounds, an argument of some sort, but it never cleared up enough for her to understand.

 _Such a restless, repeating dream…If this is Construct’s idea of a joke, I_ **_will_ ** _find a way to repay it._

There was a sharp, jarring twanging sound that echoed through the dream after that, and Nebthet was once again expelled into consciousness. Hopefully this was just a phase. She was pretty damn tired of having had the same dream crop up for a year. 

* * *

After their long discussion together that day, Nebthet kept a relaxed attitude to her plans for Seth. They would have years before succession for the throne or Items began to loom, so there was no need to rush. He was interacting more with her again, once more discussing things and slowly getting to know her. That was enough for now.

 _Though, I didn’t think he’d already achieved the status of_ **_wab_ ** _priest. He’s only twelve! A few months off from thirteen sure, but usually you need to be at least sixteen to actually get titled as even the lowest rank of priesthood:_ **_wab._ **

_In hindsight, Seth already being part of the Set cult makes_ _perfect sense. “Seth” is a variant of the god’s name, which usually meant you had been born to very devout priests of said god and thus they had already decided to dedicate you to the god’s service. Or more rarely, as Seth had quietly confirmed, as an act of devotion you could offer the name you were born with as a sacrifice. In exchange, you would be allowed to rename yourself in dedication to your god_.

_Seth’s devotion to Set, or perhaps to the cult he implied saved him from an early grave, can be seen in how very closely he renamed himself to “Set.” Though choosing the variant of “Seth” …I wonder if it’s a nod to his non-Egyptian parent? The pronunciation reminds me of how someone might try pronouncing “Set.”_

She’d needed to check with Hui to see if there was a temple or shrine to Set on palace grounds, but she’d already expected the negative answer Hui gave. The King of Kemet claimed to be the son of Horus; it’d be odd to have a shrine honoring Horus’ bitter rival in your seat of power. What it did mean however, was that she didn’t have an easy way to open an avenue into what they had discussed.

Seth had been surprised to be asked what he desired to become with her backing, but hadn’t concealed his very immodest ambitions. He aimed high indeed, with his goal of becoming High Priest of the entire Set cult. Of the current Guardians, only Akhenaden held a comparable position in the priesthood; he was High Priest of the Osiris cult. Userhet would have qualified as well, but he served a god of lesser importance. _And I’m beginning to suspect the cult might be beginning to enter a decline in worshipers. It’d be a reasonable explanation for why Userhet wouldn’t spend the amount it’d take to ensure Seth was appropriately equipped._

In the meantime, Nebthet could at least give Seth the chance to properly conduct his worship. It had taken Hui a few days, and connecting with a number of priests, but in the end, she had been able to give Seth his own private votive idol of Set. As Nebthet had no connections to the cult of Set, it was a humble idol. No matter how finely sculpted of clay, or the precision of the miniature copper jewelry the small Set idol wore, it was not comparable to the wood and gold even a small temple’s idol would have.

Seth had handled it as if it were made of solid gold and adorned in silver.

Not everything was proceeding as smoothly as her forming relationship with Seth however. Her ongoing project with the Judiciary had run head first into a sensitive issue, one that was enough to give even the most patient person a migraine. One of the Judiciary scribes, who had recently participated in a legal case that had come before the Vizier, had raised the question of the use of the Items in a legal trial. Or, indeed, in any governmental matter – barring defense of Kemet and the King – at all.

Did it already fall under pre-existing law to use the Scales to determine if someone was lying? Or did using any of the other Items? Even if they did fall under the aegis of existing law, how did you verify the use of the Items? And while one needed guts, power, and status to suggest a Guardian might dare to lie, it was much easier to ask the question if the Guardian’s findings could be interfered with.

The issue had blindsided Nebthet, as she hadn’t thought they’d be using Items during something as mundane as a legal trial. Nor that they’d have been allowed to do so without something of national importance on the line. Akhenamkhanen had to have a great deal of courage to not be concerned by the precedents he was setting. Nebthet, on the other hand, felt a phantom throbbing in her head every time she so much as thought of it. _Do not think of the word “stone tablet” Nebthet, absolutely do not think of the cost of those things! But if it’s going to be normalized by the time Atem takes the throne, I should arrange for Seth to have as thorough an education in law as I possibly can. Hmm…I’ll also speak to Kaaper about his schedule. If we can, I want him to sit in observation during my meetings in the Judiciary once he has some grounding._

Of course, once she had the thought of having Seth sit in to observe her meetings with the Judiciary, Nebthet had a quietly disturbing thought.

_… Shouldn’t Atem be sitting in as well?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egyptian Notes:
> 
> 1\. Those of you who guessed Nebthet would get additional work, you were right! But I bet she surprised you with how little she got in the end.  
> 2\. Unfortunately, in most ancient societies, the vast majority of the population was illiterate. Kemet is no different, as currently 99% of the population is illiterate. And, at best, 95% of the population are farmers; it's more likely it's 98-99% however. There's no ideological or cultural precedent for Nebthet to try encouraging literacy among the population, and she frankly doesn't have the time or resources to try getting such an idea off the ground.  
> 3\. Having your word be valued is, for obvious reasons, extremely important in a society where you generally can't do a background search. And even if you have the power/money/resources to have one done, it'll take time. That's why Nebthet takes care to avoid lying, and only uses the truth to mislead or cover up things. Reputation is gold.  
> 4\. Construct hasn't been appearing mostly because Construct hasn't actually been doing things of note. And we're trying to avoid being in childhood forever. Now though? That's for future chapters to uncover.  
> 5\. Like every organization, the Egyptian priesthood has tiers. Wab priests are the lowest rank possible, and functioned a lot like servants. They helped with temple upkeep, helped prepare for rituals and festivals, and generally kept things in order. Seth shouldn't already be one, as he's really too young...  
> 6\. And finally, we've arrived at my explanation for why priest(ess)s are running around with the names of the gods they serve. While I know it was common to _invoke_ the deity in question with names like "Beloved of X", straight up calling yourself by your god's name is...uh...not something I've ever seen before in any of my research. So here's the reasons why High Priestess Isis the Elder and Isis the Younger, both of whom are priestesses of the Isis cult, are called Isis. Princess Nebthet, our protagonist, however does not fall into these categories. She's a unique case and it'll come up later.  
> 7\. The votive idol is a bigger deal than Nebthet really gets, since her religious education was (comparatively) minimal and her focus is very much on the secular side of things.  
> 8\. While the whole "stone tablets for Ka spirits" is something that will get covered in a chapter, in regards to the magical aspect, the _cost_ of just ONE is painful. Right now, Kemet doesn't even build in stone. So those huge, heavy slabs of stone that need such precise dimensons...Oof.  
> 9\. As for Atem's education, the one who oversees it was mentioned a few chapters ago. ( ͡⌐■ ͜ʖ ͡-■)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> biggest chapter yet... And we're over 30K without getting into double digits!!! (;⌣̀_⌣́) But I promise I'm not lingering in childhood! Timeskips will be starting up again.

“Now this isn’t a scene I expected to see.” Nebthet said idly, as she walked into her personal quarters and found Seth sitting at her vanity table as her makeup artist stood next to him. He was holding a wooden application stick as he stared intently into her highly polished copper mirror, carefully tracing out the beginnings of a sharp wing for his kohl. A quick glance told her he was using his own products, as none of the objects out and in use were hers, but she was curious as to what had provoked this. 

“Princess! Your meeting with the Vizier ended early?” Her handmaiden asked softly, obviously in an attempt not to distract Seth; his small smile in the reflection showed he appreciated the care. Or perhaps he was smiling at her raised eyebrows? She’d swear their eyes had met for a moment via the reflection. 

“Indeed, it did. The Vizier had to adjourn our meeting much sooner than either of us anticipated.” She didn’t need to tell either of them why Akhenaden had hurriedly had to dismiss her, as both understood it must have been a sudden and unanticipated thing that required his immediate attention.  _ Indeed, I do wonder what on Earth that priest wanted. It looked like he was from the Osiris cult, but what emergency would have needed Akhenaden to scurry off to handle it? He’s the High Priest of the Osiris cult, so it must be quite major for the cult…  _

Nebthet anticipated that their next meeting would likely set a record as her longest yet with Akhenaden, since she had only been able to get halfway through her updates on her progress and projects. More importantly, she hadn’t been able to speak to Akhenaden about the Items’ legal status and use in governance unrelated to national defense.  _ I’m not stupid enough to proceed too far without getting his input.  _ That topic alone promised to be a thorny one; she was looking forward to sharing the migraine with Akhenaden. 

_ Ah, that’s another day. Right now, I get to watch these two treat drawing eyeliner like TV shows treated cutting the wires of a bomb.  _ Watching as Seth carefully drew a sharp, arching wing along his upper eyelid, Nebthet said “So, may I ask what you both are doing?” 

“I asked Tia to teach me some of her art. Since you were supposed to be in your meeting with the Vizier for so long, I thought you wouldn’t mind us borrowing the mirror you’re not using.” Seth answered her steadily, when he had finished the smooth arc of the wing. Putting down the stick, he turned and faced her with a small smirk, “Am I wrong?”

Nebthet chuckled quietly, pleased at how bold he was becoming with her. “You’re not, but why worry about your makeup now? You’ll easily afford your own makeup artist when you succeed the Rod, and your skills are fine enough for our age.”

Seth’s smirk deepened slightly, “You’re forgetting that I won’t have a makeup artist when staying in the temple. Or any time I need to move outside of the capital.” His smirk faded then, as he gave her a more serious look. “And as for right now, I don’t have the qualifications to have my own personal makeup artist. When we reconvene with the other successors, and your brother, I want to look my best.”

She caught the underlying message he was conveying, but not willing to say aloud.  _ You want to impress on everyone that your situation has changed, and that you’re not to be looked down on. With that kind of pride… Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t try forcing you to bend.  _

“Well, if I remember my schedule correctly, I don’t have anything important coming up that will  _ require  _ your personal expertise Tia. So I have no objections to whatever you two have agreed on.” Nebthet said casually, as she watched Seth turn back to face the mirror at her words. He picked up the application stick and began filling in the upper wing he’d lined out, and she was kind enough to wait for him to remove the stick from his face before saying, “Though if you let him develop a style like my brother Tia…” 

The woman looked aghast while Seth choked on his own breath, before saying “I would never Princess! It would be a smear on my reputation as your makeup artist!” 

Nebthet smiled calmly, as if she hadn’t purposefully jabbed at the two of them. “Then you should wholeheartedly teach Seth everything he might ever need to know, Tia. Perhaps even take him into the city…?” 

Seth’s eyes met hers in the mirror, before he gave her a small, sincere smile.  _ I’m glad you understand. I hope your meeting with the temple of Set, the one Hui told me exists near the marketplace, goes well.  _ “Of course, Princess. I will ensure he is a credit to my reputation! And I hope he will be an inspiration to you Princess, because I absolutely could give you a more exquisite design…”

Waving off the passionate handmaiden, Nebthet moved a chair over so she could spectate in comfort. She had a good portion of free time, thanks to Akhenaden rushing off. Why not spend it like this? With that, she then asked her makeup artist, “What do you think about a dark blue eyeliner for him, Tia? I think he has the eyes to pull it off.” 

* * *

For the first time in her entire second life, Nebthet was exiting the palace grounds. She had been unprepared for the news, as she had thought they were going to have their very first reconvened Shadow Magic class… Which they were, the nervous instructor assured her loudly incredulous brother. But they were having it outside the city, as the nearly quivering instructor informed them, where their very first Ka Summoning would have the smallest possible chance of destroying buildings or harming one of the six thousand inhabitants of the capital.

_ Hopefully Seth won’t be too irritated that his plans have been thrown off by this. I don’t think anyone will really notice the difference in his appearance today… Well, there’s nothing I can do about it. And I won’t protest a smart move. From what our lessons have taught us, these “Ka” can be absolutely massive. If you wound up summoning one too big for the building, then you’d most likely be dooming everyone inside. _

_ Though I thought our first practicals would be building up to this, not just jumping straight into it? Summoning your personal Ka is the first step in being recognized as a real, bonafide magician. They haven’t let even Mahad attempt it previously, so I wonder why they’ve made this choice…  _

However, Nebthet had found out in short order she would not be leaving the palace grounds on her own two feet. None of them would be, but rather on sedan chairs that were carried by four strong men apiece. The instructor stated it was a royal order, when she asked who had prepared sedans for all of them, since the distance from the palace to the designated site would be far too far for any of them to walk.  _ In other words, Akhenamkhanen’s behind this then? Why would he insist on moving up the Ka summoning? _

Putting aside the questions raised by the implications of the King meddling, as she wouldn’t get an answer any time soon, Nebthet cautiously climbed onto the sedan and made herself comfortable. Once she had, the sedan bearers grasped their pole and smoothly lifted the sedan off the ground. After they’d done so, an even more impressively built man moved over to her sedan. In his hands was… something she supposed might pass for a fan if you’d never seen a spear; the shaft was too sturdy and long for a genuine fan. And while it had the feathered “head” of a fan, so long as you paid attention the ostrich feathers failed to entirely conceal the spearhead inside a double row of feathers. 

Three similar fan bearers then went to Atem’s sedan, and it confirmed her suspicion that they were disguised bodyguards. None of the others got a fan bearer, not even a genuine one.  _ I believe this is called blatant favoritism Akhenamkhanen. Though I think only children and idiots wouldn’t notice these fan bearers are a little too muscled and intimidating to  _ **_just_ ** _ be fan bearers.  _

At least her new bodyguard was diligent about fanning her, even if her minor magical talent made it unnecessary. 

Once everyone had settled into their sedan, the procession began. Their instructor’s sedan, one where you sat upright, led the way into the capital while she and her brother took the middle positions. Atem’s irritation of being deprived of Mahad company in favor of being carried next to her was evident, but it was easy to ignore his glaring. There was so much more to see than her brother’s pouting! 

Thinis, the capital of their dynasty, was bustling and full of life. Everywhere she looked, there were dozens of people in various modes of dress going about their life; Nebthet even spotted a few pale flashes of skin as they passed the grand market, marking out foreign traders from  _ quite _ far away indeed. The sounds of people speaking and shouting, animals working and being slaughtered, it all made a cacophony that made it clear just how ordered palace life was. Chaos seemed to reign in comparison, but Nebthet was pleased to see it. All of these were signs of a thriving city, and a healthy capital meant a healthy nation.

Sure, there was a very strong smell inside the capital proper, but all ancient capitals were quite stinky. Thousands of people living in a narrow area, before modern plumbing, meant that even a city that invested effort in keeping clean would be quite fragrant. Instead, she looked out for people clearing the streets of animal dung and trash, keeping it relatively clean for use. When she spotted them, she knew that Thinis really was doing well; especially with how many she spotted.

People naturally gave way to the procession of sedans, as anyone could see they were nobles at least, which had them exiting the capital in what she suspected was a timely manner. As they marched out of Thinis, they headed West towards the desert. The transition from arable land to utter desiccation was sharp and abrupt, leaving a clear line between the “red land” and “black land”, but there was little to occupy her attention as they moved to whatever designated spot that was their destination.

With boredom threatening to creep up on her, as Nebthet had become utterly accustomed to sitting around with nothing to do or see, she took the opportunity to examine her sedan chair more closely. The sedan she was using was designed to be reclined upon by the occupant, instead of the kind of sedan that required the occupant to sit upright. It made it more like a sedan lounge, instead of the chair that the instructor had. 

Her sedan was also generously padded with soft cushions and abundant pillows, ensuring the comfort of even the most fussy of nobles. Finely embroidered lotuses had been stitched into the pillows when she took a look, but the cushions themselves were bare. There was also indication that the sedan was meant to be used either for adults, or for herself even as an adult, by just how much wood had been used to make the sedan. It was large enough to hold a fully grown woman, which no amount of fancy detailing on the wooden panels could distract from. 

However, Nebthet had to admit the carpenter had been very clever in how he’d included the capacity to set up a linen awning over the entire sedan; she’d burn like anyone with this kind of sun, something temperature-regulation cantrips couldn’t effect. The back of her chair and the very foot of her leg space had decorated divots where wooden poles could be inserted, and from those very poles her linen covering hung. It left her entirely in the shade despite being hauled further into the desert. 

_ … Okay, I give up. I admit it! I’ve gotten too used to having my day filled with things to do. But at least everyone else is just as bored as me, which I hope will get Seth to show more of that dry humor I saw in action the other day. Being able to joke around me is an excellent step!  _

_ And I do admit, I feel a bit closer to him as well. Really, I’m getting the feeling we have the potential to be friends;  _ **_good_ ** _ friends. _

Despite the fact she was invested in her developing relationship with Seth, it couldn’t keep her attention for long however. Nebthet inevitably began thinking about her various tasks, reviewing and considering them, before her new experience with the capital city had her thinking about magic. She knew that magic could enchant items, and much more, but could it be reasonably turned toward improving the quality of life for Thinis’ citizens? 

Her meager talent in magic hadn’t qualified her for extensive lessons in magic. Instead, her education in magic had been structured to giving her a thorough understanding of the basics and how best to utilize her talent. The only part that might qualify as “journeyman” status in theoretical understanding was magical curses, curse breaking, and protections against curses.  _ After all, I’m meant to have people who can dedicate all their time to researching and understanding magic. I just need to know how to use my talent, know enough to protect myself, know how to use my sorcerers, and know when they’re trying to screw with me. Anything more, and I’m wasting time and effort I need to be spreading out across multiple sectors. _

The primary things she’d want, if magic could be used this way, would be things that could help improve sanitation and water purity, ultimately with water purity taking precedence. While she and everyone lucky enough to be a magician would never have to worry about the Nile’s parasites, the rest of Kemet did. Especially since wood was so scarce in their desert country, anything that could be used to make a fire would be saved for things like cooking.  _ Boiling water takes time and labor, and filtering the water with linen before boiling requires you to be able to afford having linen not being used as clothing. Other than the wealthy merchants, nobles, and the palace, who could afford to constantly boil water? Even the average scribe couldn’t afford it!  _

Nebthet’s own demands for her household to do so were seen as very strange, and had caused a bit of a budget issue before her frugalness regarding her personal attire came through. However, none of her staff were stupid. They were noticing how there was a sharp decrease in several common ailments and issues in everyone but the laundresses. The laundresses still did their work directly in the Nile, which was something Nebthet was hoping would add more traction to her campaign to promote boiling water.

_ It’s too bad Seth is a pure magician, but I suppose it means I need to plan to acquire another sorcerer. Harsiese has his own duties to handle. Adding research on top of it would inevitably result in a decline in work quality for my magical protections, which considering Lagash and Sumer’s infamous penchant for curses… Hmm, I wonder if I should try and get a hold of one of the sorcerers who can do alchemical creation? Wait. Did I ever learn exactly what they  _ **_can_ ** _ make? _

“Your Highness, we have arrived. Please take care when stepping out of the sedan chair.” The bodyguard spoke suddenly, for the very first time, breaking her out of her thoughts as the quartet of men gently lowered the sedan onto the sandy ground. Nebthet took his advice, placing one slipper clad foot onto the ground and then the other, before he cautiously extended a hand. She gave him a slight smile as she used it to help pull herself up, letting go once she was standing. 

Looking around, she found the area was quite barren but not the desert itself. Instead they seemed to be at the entrance of what might be a wadi, given the large cliff-faces a ways away that framed one another. A large tent had already been pitched for them, with everything they would need for a day’s comfort inside. 

“Did you enjoy the sedan ride Princess?” Seth’s voice had her turning away from inspecting the area, and towards the approaching teen. Without the talent for magic she had, he was sweating lightly from the heat. However, the heat didn’t seem to have worn him  _ or  _ his makeup down; Seth’s double-winged eyeliner remained just as cutting as it was earlier this morning. 

“The bearers did their job excellently. I barely noticed I was being moved.” Though she did admit it was helped by the fact she’d spent most of the trip focusing on other things. 

He huffed a short laugh, before giving her a slight, wry smile “You are lucky, Princess, that it was so peaceful. I had to overhear Isis’ attempts to get Mahad’s attention, and Mahad’s utter inability to notice she wasn’t actually looking to discuss his thoughts on magical divination.”

_ A crush? Or are politics already afoot?  _ “Well, was the discussion interesting at least? Divination is an obscure subject even for magicians and sorcerers.”

Seth gave a shrug before saying, “Somewhat. But it’s hard to enjoy a topic when it seems Mahad knows more than the actual diviner. Isis might not have inherited her mother’s talents in divination.”

_ Another piece of evidence for my theory that Isis the Elder was focused on keeping the Necklace within the Isis cult, and preferably her own bloodline. Not something I really want confirmation on though, since we can’t exactly get a new candidate without Isis the Younger messing up badly enough to justify it. _ “Well, the Ka summoning should make up for your suffering Seth. Unless you summon something cute and harmless.”

He gave her a small glare for even the thought, before smiling again. “If anyone would have something soft and pampered Princess…”

Nebthet caught the sly hint, and was delighted with the playfulness. Feigning irritation, which was undermined by the smile on her face, she airily replied“Who do you think you’re looking at Seth? Turn your eyes to someone more fitting.”

“Of course Princess, of course. And…” His voice trailed off as his eyes narrowed, staring at the nervous instructor approaching them. “It looks like we’re about to begin.”

She nodded, and they both walked into the tent. Atem had already claimed a seat by Mahad, but in light of Seth’s words Nebthet took note of how Isis was sitting on Mahad’s other side. Nebthet took her own seat next to her brother, while Seth sat next to her. With everyone now seated - Kalim and Shada already having settled down by Isis - the instructor began to explain that they would be guided through touching their innate Shadow Magic before being taught the Ka summoning steps. 

“Now, for those of you who possess a talent in magic this will be both easier and harder. You’ve become used to reaching for and using that power, but magic and Shadow Magic are…” The instructor licked his lips in thought, and Nebthet was grateful she was out of spraying range. “Not naturally compatible. At all. Hence why mages are so rare. I initially will be brushing my own Shadow Magic across each of you, and hopefully you all are sensitive enough that we won’t need the more invasive options.”

Nebthet had to raise her eyebrows at that, as the word  _ invasive _ had connotations. If he was going to “brush across” them, would that mean for invasive he’d be injecting his own Shadow Magic into their bodies?  _ I’m pretty sure that counts as attacking… Sure, a controlled attack, but that would explain why he’s so hesitant to use it. If someone reacts badly, he could get flattened. Or he might flatten them in reaction to their instinctive retaliation. _

With this poorly delivered explanation given, the instructor had them stand one at a time. He then had them stand across from him, no more than three feet of separation, and Nebthet could feel a sort of…Presence exude from him suddenly. The shaking, nearly hamster-esque man became more intimidating, and his mousy brown ringlets seemed to gain volume.

Everyone reacted differently to the “brushing”, she found as she observed. Well, the ones sensitive enough to get a grasp of their Shadow Magic just from this; Isis and Kalim were going to have to try the invasive method. Atem shuddered like the rattle on a rattlesnake, looking just as ready to bite, while Mahad flinched as if struck. Shada’s face paled, and he had to immediately sit down and control his breathing to avoid being sick. And Seth, well, his instinctive reaction was to try and menace the instructor with his most vicious glare; it was too effective on the instructor, as he immediately quit exuding pressure.

For whatever reason, she was the last to be called up. Standing across from the adult man, Nebthet waited as he took a couple of calming breaths. When he was ready, there was a split second where she first felt the pressure. But it was only a split second, as the feeling of being plunged into cold, syrupy liquid hit her. Nebthet inhaled sharply as panic tried to mount, because the sensation felt like the choking she’d experienced on entering this world, before she felt something refreshingly cool inside her  _ surge _ .

With a few more “brushes”, Nebthet had a handle on how to call up her own Shadow Magic; her panic had also faded with the confirmation she would be fine. It felt so much stronger, and so very different, from magic that she wondered how her body could stand it. Then again, the theory she’d learned stated that Shadow Magic came from the soul. So perhaps the body merely experienced constant “irradiation” thanks to her soul inhabiting in?  _ It would make sense on how it has the effect of killing everything living that enters me, and why no living animal willingly gets near me. So long as my soul’s inside my body, it doesn’t matter. At least, I think so? The fact Construct called it “antithetical to existence” pokes massive holes in my theory however… _ Either way, Shadow Magic seemed to have made a massive reservoir inside her. She’d need to explore this in much more depth than her meager magic talent, as she’d be capable of more.

Taking her seat once again, she felt a budding sense of awareness from her Shadow Magic. As she passed through Atem and Seth’s personal shadows, she had a strange, utterly certain feeling that they were magicians. And more remotely, she had the feeling there was many magicians close to her.  _ Well, if this isn’t a temporary side-effect of becoming aware of my Shadow Magic, it’ll be useful. _

Isis and Kalim took awhile to get in touch with their Shadow Magic, but Nebthet suspected that this time they weren’t at fault. The instructor was so very, very nervous, that his pressure had greatly decreased. Perhaps it was an attempt to ensure the safety of the individuals involved, but Nebthet really had to wonder why someone so nervous would be given the honor to teach them.

With everyone now capable of calling up their Shadow Magic on command, they were taken through the process of Ka summoning. Listening to it, it sounded like one of those intuitive things that would be either as easy as breathing or a massive pain in the ass for a first attempt. The process was to pull your Shadow Magic outside your body in a raw mass, and allow it to take on the form of your Ka. You would know you succeeded when “light bursts forth” and the name of your Ka tripped off your tongue like something you’d only needed a small trigger to remember.

The nervous man gave a demonstration by summoning his own Ka. Indeed, “light burst forth” in a small column that seemed to come out of nowhere. Within moments the light moved and faded, leaving behind a creature which turned out to be… As underwhelming a Ka as its owner. Named “Petit Angel”, it was a round, ball-like creature not too dissimilar from Kirby. Nebthet got the firm sense that while it was stronger than any normal, unempowered human, it was extremely low on the pecking order.  _ It really does reflect the soul of the summoner then! _

Nebthet doubted the man had the intention of giving everyone the feeling that if  _ he  _ could do it, they absolutely could. However, regardless of his lack of intention, that was what happened. She could feel it in the air, see it on her brother’s face. With this motivation driving them, Atem hustled the man into allowing them to try summoning their Ka now. Apparently, it was traditional to summon Ka during sunset as the long shadows and transitional period before nighttime made things easier.

“What does it matter if we start a few hours before sunset!? Gods, you might need that external aid but we don’t! Come, out of the way. Mahad and I will show you the difference between us!”

_ Really should have gotten someone who could handle Atem’s impatience. Look at him, he’s shaking like a maraca now… _

Unable to resist her brother, he led them outside into the harsh, fading light of day. Once they were several hundred yards away from the tent, the instructor meekly told them they could begin to try summoning their Ka. Surprisingly, Isis was the first of all of them to summon her Ka with a shout of “Come forth, Spiria!”

Her graceful, fairy-like Ka was visually more impressive than the instructors, but it didn’t give a feeling of power. Instead, it somehow gave a very reliable feeling despite its lack of muscles.  _ Perhaps it’s a defensive or supportive Ka? But we can find out later. The goal for now is for everyone to successfully summon their Ka. _

Nebthet turned her attention mostly inward after that, slowly calling up Shadow Magic and experimenting with it. Like most things that required intuitive understanding, it was more difficult than the simple instructions had made it sound.  _ Or in my case, it might be my experience with magic hampering me again… It’s hard to just let it be, and not hold it or shape it for a cantrip. I wonder if it needs to be so loosely dealt with because it’s going to be used to summon another being? Maybe the Ka shapes the energy to make a physical body?  _

The call of “Come forth, Helimai!” broke her concentration, and had her opening eyes she didn’t remember closing. Kalim had succeeded in summoning his Ka, a massive, winged lion that had a spike emerging from the top of its skull. It growled lowly before sitting down on its haunches next to Kalim, and Nebthet had the feeling it was a stronger Ka than Spiria. 

Right on the heels of Helimai sitting came another shout, “Come forth, Two-Headed Jackal Warrior!” This time the light show was more intense, a firm column of light shone before revealing an impressive, humanoid form. It was a massive creature, easily twelve feet in height, wearing heavy plate armor that hadn’t been invented yet. In one of its hands was a massive battleaxe that showed signs of use, but both jackal heads were fixed on the stunned Shada. 

_ Is it me or… Are Kalim and Isis having trouble standing ever since Shada summoned Jackal Warrior?  _

Her baffled observation was confirmed when Mahad’s voice rang out “Come forth, Magus of Illusion!” With an even more intense light than Jackal Warrior had produced, Isis and Kalim fell to one knee as their Ka seemed to sink into a deferential pose. But before she could consider the implications, her attention was seized by Mahad’s revealed Ka. The Magus twirled its staff in an impressive display of dexterity while it floated in the air, before bowing to Mahad.  _ What the  _ **_hell?_ ** _ That’s Dark Magician! Except, not? There’s no face, just glowing “eyes.” Dark Magician definitely had eyes, and a whole face.  _

Nebthet took a calming breath, and decided she’d think about it later. She needed to focus- “Come forth, Hieratic Dragon of Sutekh!”

With Seth’s shout, an utterly massive column of light split the air, one larger than all previous ones combined. Isis and Kalim sank to all fours, while Shada fell to one knee. Mahad staggered a bit, but managed to remain standing as the light revealed a magnificent,  _ massive _ dragon that looked to have been made from condensed golden light. It was slightly smaller than a commercial airplane, thanks to having a thicker, shorter tail than it could have otherwise had, with strategic pieces of gold armor placed on its body. But as it lowered its head to look at Seth, Nebthet suddenly found it… Cute.  _ Oh, look at its helmet! It has decorative Set animal ears on its helmet! That’s too adorable for a ferocious dragon that could swallow me whole.  _

It began to leisurely pump its wings to descend while Nebthet kept cooing over its helmet, landing with a surprisingly soft tremor. She took another moment to take in Seth’s awed, proud expression, before concentrating. There was literally only her and her brother left, and she didn’t want to be stuck with the label of “last to summon their Ka.” 

Reaching back for her Shadow Magic, she let it fill her body aimlessly with power.  _ Hold it without controlling it, without shaping it… Let it be. This isn’t magic, this is Shadow Magic. Breathe, be calm, and push it outside.  _ The moment the mass of Shadow Magic left her body, a familiar voice rang out inside her head. “Oh? You’re finally summoning me? How lucky, I’ve won then! Come now, call my name like this-”

On instinct, before she could react to the marionette’s words and disrupt her concentration, Nebthet said the same phrase everyone else had used as she said “Come forth, El Shaddoll Construct!”

Again the light column pierced the air, and Nebthet judged it to be as massive as Seth’s. But when it cleared up to reveal Construct, Nebthet was shocked. Construct was much, much,  _ much _ bigger than it had been in her old dreams. Instead of being a mechanical marionette roughly the size of a human, what was standing on the ground was something the size of a skyscraper. Countless luminous lavender cables filled the air, and unlike her dream she could now vaguely spot that things were entangled in some of the cable-like strings. 

“Look how wide your eyes are,” It crooned inside her mind, “You didn’t plan for this, did you? Go on, praise me. Tell me I am a majestic, peerless Ka Spirit!”

Nebthet had to admit it was an impressive Ka like this. But, there was a small problem.  _ If you can’t shrink to fit inside buildings, then you’re not very useful I’m afraid. How could I summon you if you’d destroy the entire palace? _

“You’re always like this.” It said with a pouting voice, but surprisingly without any of the movements it did in her dreams. “But yes, I can adjust my size. This is merely my true glory, not my limitation!” 

_ Then you are truly a magnificent Ka, Construct. And since you’re here, my dreams better clear up after this. I’m tired of having that same dream over and over. _

Before it could respond however, Atem’s voice cut through the air with a roar of “Come forth, Divine Beast of Osiris! Slifer the Sky Dragon!”

The world seemed to erupt into light after that, blinding her for a moment, before it disappeared with nothing to show. Except within moments Nebthet began to feel a silent, invisible pressure as the darkening sky began to unnaturally produce enough storm clouds to blot out the sky. The pressure only mounted as the sky seemed to seethe, clouds circling around a central point like a whirlpool while lightning began to flash. The lightning created a contrast between the storm clouds and whatever was inside the clouds, casting an ink black shadow onto the concealing clouds.

Seth’s Hieratic Dragon growled as its thick tail curved around her and Seth, and Nebthet took her eyes off the arriving Ka to look at Seth. His eyes were wide as he breathed heavily, muscles trembling from what she suspected was the pressure she felt. But there was determination in his eyes, as he forced his knees to lock and steadied his stance.

_ I can’t fall either. This pressure to kneel before this Ka… Like hell I’m doing that! _

Sinuous coils dropped from the clouds as she thought that, each as big as mountains. Jet black and fresh crimson scales could be seen as they moved through the clouds, lightning crackling over them harmlessly. The pressure intensified immensely then, without warning, and it nearly drove her to her knees. An instinctive, animal part of her brain shrieked in fear as she stood her ground regardless, and then the Divine Beast deigned to emerge from its storm clouds. 

Slifer was awe-inspiring, in the sense she desperately wanted to hear the words “Fear not.” There was no better way to put it, for this being defied anything else she could say. But no reassuring words came, merely a roar from its lower mouth before it retreated back into its storm clouds. 

The pressure ceased as it did so, and the clouds vanished just as quickly they’d sprung into being. She looked at her brother, now that she could think of something other than Slifer, and saw he looked terrified. Nebthet wondered if he was fearful of the consequences of summoning such a Ka, watching as red eyes darted around, looking at the prostrate successors before looking at her.

_ … In the end, he’s my twin and a child. Terror doesn’t suit him. _

So what else could she do, but take a breath and give him a reassuring smile? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egyptian Notes:
> 
> 1\. I found out the hard way that there's little consistency in what eyeliner styles are called, which makes trying to describe it hard! So, using the only solid reference sight I found I nailed down some eyeliner styles I'll have characters using! Here it is: https://www.beautifieddesigns.com/eyeliner-styles/  
> 2\. Sedan chairs! A staple in most cultures, as it's a way to show off your might to have actual humans haul you around. Generally each culture has their own unique spin on them, but there's a universal quality in that there's two "types." A sedan chair where it's shaped like an actual chair, so the occupant is sitting upright, or where it's a platform to sprawl on. I've based Nebthet's on an actual existing sedan chair! It's Queen Hetepheres' chair if you want to look it up, but the problem is...That the _only_ nice reconstruction of it when new is from a 3D asset site. So I'll be including the link so you can look at it if you want, but it is what it is: https://www.daz3d.com/queen-hetepheres-sedan-chair  
> 3\. While we don't know for certain, it's a very popular theory in academia that the Royal Fanbearers were actually bodyguards hiding in plain sight. It'd explain the great honor and importance of it, and it'd be a very clever way to be protected without looking like you feel the need for it.  
> 4\. Welcome to Thinis! Thinis was the capital of the very earliest dynasties, and we know next to nothing about it since it's a lost city. Most of what we do know is what were the major cults centered there, how long it was used as a capital, etc. So I based the population count at what Memphis would be like during the Old Kingdom, as it too is a capital. The population would vary over the year, thanks to trade and the Nile floods, but on average Thinis will have around 7,000 inhabitants.  
> 5\. Sanitation in the BCE era varies with the culture, but generally goes in the category of Bad. However, I have Thinis being very good about trying to keep the streets clean because animal dung can be dried and used as fuel. As well as other things, but mostly fuel since Egypt is a desert. Human waste is dealt with reasonably well for the era, in that they're not allowed to do the "pour it out of the window" method. Instead, you have people who come to collect the "night soil" where it'll be disposed of outside the city.  
> 6\. As Nebthet showed, trying to implement ideas is _always_ constrained by the understanding of the people you're asking to work with you and the resources you have access to. It's not enough for her to just know boiling water will help to kill a lot of shit in the water, making it safer to work with.  
> 7\. Sumerians were extremely liberal with cursing. We've found loads of clay tablets about trying to curse this or that individual. Put that in a world where magic exists? Well, it's...exciting.  
> 8\. OK I'm going to be inserting a ton of links so you guys can see the Kas! ~~Also if you look up Shaddoll archetype that's on y'all~~
> 
> Petit Angel- https://yugipedia.com/wiki/Petit_Angel  
> Spiria- https://yugipedia.com/wiki/Spiria  
> Helimai- https://yugipedia.com/wiki/Helimai_(manga)  
> Two-Headed Jackal Warrior- https://yugipedia.com/wiki/Two-Headed_Jackal_Warrior_(manga)  
> Magus of Illusion- https://yugipedia.com/wiki/Magus_of_Illusion  
> Hieratic Dragon of Sutekh- https://yugipedia.com/wiki/Hieratic_Dragon_of_Sutekh  
> El Shaddoll Construct- https://yugipedia.com/wiki/El_Shaddoll_Construct  
> Slifer the Sky Dragon- https://yugipedia.com/wiki/Slifer_the_Sky_Dragon
> 
> Since 3 of these are drawn from actual cards, and 2 of them have no anime appearances, here's some links to someone who's uploaded very large HQ cards so you can look at the art closely.  
> Construct- https://www.deviantart.com/kai1411/art/El-Shaddoll-Construct-474602442  
> Hieratic Dragon- https://www.deviantart.com/kai1411/art/Hieratic-Dragon-of-Sutekh-288161146


	12. Mahad: The Magic of-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I'm gonna do a cool little POV chapter that pulls triple duty by also time skipping and doing some worldbuilding  
> Mahad: What do you mean "little"

Sighing as he reviewed his apprentice’s latest scroll on the assignment he had set her, Mahad wondered again how exactly he qualified to have an apprentice at fifteen. _Despite the fact a street orphan had accidentally snuck into the palace via those damned pots, you sensed her untapped potential and felt it should be put to use for Kemet. And more importantly, she was able to treat Atem as a peer even after it was made clear to her whom he was. So you argued with your mentor to take her on, in spite of your age and pre-existing commitments, and now you’re three years into this._

He sighed again when his mind immediately answered his own rhetorical question, because Mahad of all people did not need reminding. How could he forget why he had such a troublesome, lively apprentice who lived to make mischief? It would be a blessing from Thoth if Mana learned to have a little restraint, and put that focus she used to prank Atem and servants into her magical studies. But it would be a waste of time to ask the gods for things that would only happen with the fullness of time. 

_We should only ask for divine intervention when truly needed, least we disgust the gods._ He cut off his line of thought before he could think of asking for something blasphemous, and instead got out his own papyrus to write his critique of Mana’s scroll. Despite his original ulterior motives in forcibly apprenticing the young girl, he took teaching her seriously. Mahad would not take after that one, and purposefully neglect and stifle his charge’s education in the name of a “loving childhood.”

It took him about an hour, as Mahad had to think of how to write as simply as possible. Despite treating her literacy lessons surprisingly seriously, Mana often avoided reading whenever possible. Trying to force her to, either for an assignment or punishment, only had her throwing a frustrated temper tantrum about how it was impossible to read so much. She preferred to be lectured, or read to, whenever possible; but there was only so much he could indulge her. _I do not understand why it’s so difficult for her, or why the words would “move,” but she_ **_must_ ** _be able to read and write. Literacy is paramount for a sorcerer, and especially if her Shadow Magic talent develops further. Mana cannot requisition someone to eternally follow her around to read and write for her!_

With his duty as Mana’s master discharged, Mahad put away his writing kit and selected a number of scrolls to bring to Atem. It was best to keep his little prince busy, and to train his mind however he could. Games were both a bane and a blessing in regards to this, as they could hone many aspects of the mind that a future King needed… But Atem enjoyed them far, far too much. If it wasn’t for the endearing stubbornness to keep up with Mahad, he suspected his little prince would have obsessed entirely over games. 

Moving through the palace grounds, Mahad hoped that His Majesty wouldn’t deign to drop in again without forewarning. The King already spent a very significant portion of Atem’s time by having his little prince accompany him, and it would not help with the existing problems. His Majesty’s piety to the gods was, of course, needed for Kemet’s continued well-being, along with his deep paternal concern for the common folk. But His Majesty was His Majesty, an established King with the support of many capable individuals like the Vizier. 

_Truly, His Majesty is an affectionate father to his son. I can think of no other King who has spent so much time with their son, especially since His Majesty mostly only speaks of the value of all life, and developing paternal love for the “innocent citizens.” Nor can I think of a King so devoted to his wife as to devote an hour every day in prayer to her health in the afterlife, and dismiss a small child’s wetnurse for the toddler mistakenly calling her “Mama.”_

“-if you are sure your goals are unchanged Seth, then I believe I must.”

Mahad knew that voice. Pausing behind a wall, and ignoring all the times he had scolded Mana and Atem for eavesdropping, Mahad stayed to listen to Princess Nebthet’s conversation. It was rare that the Princess would be so incautious as to speak of anything of importance outside her “kingdom,” and it would be disloyal to his little prince if he did not take this rare opportunity. 

“My princess, I’m certain I can approach the Vizier on my own. You don’t need to ask him for me.”

Mahad felt the customary pang of regret and pity as he heard Seth’s familiar voice, even if it was… Shocking to heart it be so warm; normally he only heard Seth being professionally neutral, or snapping out cutting remarks. Years ago, if he had been wiser or more proactive, perhaps Seth would be so close to Atem and himself. Instead, he’d been too overwhelmed with trying to juggle his responsibilities, Atem’s schedule, and Mana’s sudden inclusion in their lives. The Princess had stepped in, and bound Seth to her side so tightly that Mahad doubted Atem could ever change it. 

“The Vizier and I have interacted for many years, and I believe we’ve established something of a rapport. If I ask, his price will be that he becomes your patron and mentor. Perhaps he might throw in some other little things, but ultimately it won’t be so costly. If you ask, what can’t he demand of you?” 

Being so casually able to claim such a relationship with the Vizier of all of Kemet, when she barely had two numbers to her age… This sort of thing was why Princess Nebthet remained his little prince’s greatest threat and pressure. When he was younger, having just arrived at the palace, he had fully bought into the rumors that the Princess was really the goddess Nebthet who had taken advantage to be incarnated as the Princess. How else could a child be so intelligent, so understanding, and so _adult?_ Mahad knew better now, of course, having seen through the illusion to see that in reality she was human enough. But the rumors persisted, and only made things more difficult.

“My princess, this is _my_ dream. I think I should be the one to pay for it; regardless of the cost.”

Mahad frowned at Seth’s rebuttal, as that indicated a deeper connection between the two than he had thought they’d had. _Her Highness really knows how to cultivate relationships. For Seth of all people to be willing to suffer a loss instead of letting her take it for him…_

“Let me do this last thing for you. He will certainly demand things of you once you begin to learn under him, but it’ll be better if you can start without a mountain of debt. And, this way you will truly have to rely on your own merit to win his favor; High Priest Akhenaden is known for looking down on those who use their connections like this. Your reputation will be better for it.”

“I will think on it, my princess. Now, Harsiese handed me these alchemic calculations…”

Their voices faded away, much to Mahad’s disappointment. Still, he had learned some potentially valuable pieces of information. Even if he was unable to do anything with it currently, who knows when it will be useful? Princess Nebthet’s power-base expanded by the year, and even the court was beginning to take notice. _Perhaps His Majesty’s greatest grace to Atem was betrothing him to his sister. Princess Nebthet is less likely to gamble on the outcome when it is already assured that she will sit as Queen-consort._

Thinking of the situation between his little prince and his imposing sister had a throbbing start up in his temple, and prompted him to continue moving towards Atem’s wing. Mahad knew his limitations, and he was unable to battle with Princess Nebthet outright. For now, he had to remain on guard, grow stronger, and look for advantages for Atem.

By the time he reached Atem’s wing, it was nearly half an hour after he’d set out for it. The closeness of the wing to His Majesty’s personal quarters was another mark of favor, which was good for his little prince, but it was much farther away from the heart of the palace. It made getting around tiresome, but it was what it was; His Majesty would never agree to Atem moving, not even if Atem wished it. 

“Mahad! You’re back?” At the sight of his little prince - safe, sound, and still as naive as when he left - Mahad relaxed slightly. He was patient; there was years to go until they had to truly worry about the succession. 

* * *

“...Hmm. These calculations are extremely impressive, especially considering His Highness has no talent for magic. Have you tried using this for your alchemy Mahad? Because if His Highness’s theory is right…”

Mahad nodded to his mentor with a proud smile, “Yes, Prince Atem’s grasp of alchemy is very fine. I personally don’t favor such an mathematical approach to magic, but it still enabled me to shave off two pounds of sand and finish quicker.”

Raherka stroked his mustache in thought, flicking the beads of his abacus as he worked through the whole set of equations. He only gave a slight smile when he found no errors, but Mahad was proud to spot how the High Priest was impressed. “I had no idea His Highness had such a grasp of magic theory, or mathematics. I’ve seen cruder work from some of our more senior sorcerers. So, what exactly inspired the Prince to work on something like this Mahad?”

Thinking about the inspiration behind it had Mahad’s temple throb slightly, as ultimately Princess Nebthet was behind it. If he knew exactly who had given her the idea to investigate alchemy… “I’m afraid to say it was myself. I was having some difficulty getting the corundum’s properties correct, so Prince Atem wanted to help streamline the process. It took him a few weeks of working on it, with myself testing the equations, but these do make single element substances like gold much easier.”

Setting the papyrus scroll on his desk, Raherka stood up and began to pace. The Ring flashed in the light as he did, catching the eye with its golden gleam, but Mahad was used to his mentor’s habits. If he was pacing, then he was seriously contemplating matters; and if he was giving this his full consideration, then Atem’s equations were likely to garner the attention and respect Mahad hoped for. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong Mahad, but these do not eliminate the issue of the sorcerer needing to control the distribution of properties in multiple element substances?” 

Shaking his head slightly, Mahad confirmed it “Unfortunately they do not. His Highness says it will be a matter of months, but more likely years, to try and create equations that could handle that for an alchemist. There’s simply too few sorcerers capable of alchemy, and their limitations are what they are. Ultimately they must prioritize the needs of Kemet first.”

Raherka stroked his mustache again, twisting the tips in a way that had Mahad’s heart soaring. _If he’s doing that then it’s a success!_ “Perhaps it was too much to hope for a solution to that wretched issue. However it’s still an impressive contribution, and a very noteworthy display of his skills. The Vizier has made it clear he wants to build reserves of alchemic precious metals and stones, because it is directly connected to the prosperity of Kemet. I suspect His Highness will be publicly praised by High Priest Akhenaden in court after this!”

_Even a small comment in Atem’s favor from that mouth would be a blessing. His partiality and relationship with Princess Nebthet is so blatant, that it’s becoming a problem that the Vizier looks to be unimpressed with his nephew._

“Then you’ll present these for His Highness? I would do it myself, but…”

Mahad’s mentor chuckled lowly, “Yes, I understand your position clearly Mahad. You’re His Highness’ childhood friend and playmate, close as brothers now. How could the sorcerers take it seriously? At best they’d think you were submitting your work and crediting His Highness out of loyalty.”

“Exactly High Priest. Prince Atem might not have any talent for magic, but he has a theoretical understanding akin to myself _and_ a gift for mathematics I wish I had. I wish for his effort and wisdom to be understood, not mistakenly attributed as myself taking pity on His Highness.” 

It truly would be foolish of him to hand over a dagger that’d be used to stab his little prince in the back. _And I cannot afford to be so foolish. Atem needs accomplishments to his name beyond the favor of the King! Princess Nebthet collects prestigious deeds like she might die if she doesn’t have enough, but where does it leave my little prince?_

“You’ve been a good subject, and a loyal friend Mahad. It heartens me to know a man like you will be my successor. The Ring… Requires a bearer to have a strong character. Now, go and tell His Highness I’ll champion him to the sorcerers and the Vizier.”

Sketching a bow to his mentor with a smile, Mahad excused himself with the intent to do just that. This would surely validate the small, little white lie he’d told his little prince long ago… However, the image of a very young Atem popped into his mind again and revived Mahad’s guilty conscience. _Goddess Ma’at, once again I ask that you please understand my deceiving a small child into thinking that magic requires increasingly advanced mathematics! And that I used a child’s endearing determination to keep up with me to get him to learn! This has all been to educate Atem as best I can, when His Majesty has decided not to provide!_

* * *

For most people, hearing that their father had come to the capital to see them would be a wonderful surprise. Mahad, on the other hand, felt a burst of cold dread in his gut when the messenger informed him. “Did my mother accompany him?”

The young man shook his shaved head, “Apologies, but Lord Masaharta came on his own. Lady Khensa hasn’t left Imentet, since the temple needed her.”

_Of course the temple needs her, when don’t they need Mother? A diviner who has a near perfect record of being able to divine storms and other troubles on the sea… They’d kick up a massive fuss if she ever tried to leave Apis for long; or at all. But without Mother, there’s no one who can curb Father._

“Did my father say if he’d be visiting the palace grounds?” Mahad asked, his stomach churning at the very idea. The palace wasn’t a place Mahad wanted his father to make connections with. It was bad enough that he was able to socialize with most of the nomarchs in the Delta, and that his background was so… Impressive. 

“No, he invited you to visit him in the city proper. Lord Masaharta’s leg has been bothering him very badly this year.” The messenger said with a tired look, which gave Mahad a little bit of assurance. If his father’s leg truly was bothering him then he wouldn’t be going anywhere without a sedan chair. And the qualifications to use a sedan chair on palace grounds was something beyond his family, cousins to the Crown Prince or not.

“Go back and inform my father I’ll be there in an hour or so. I need to finish some tasks before I can leave the palace.” _And make mental preparations to face the crocodile._

The messenger sketched a bow, saying “I will do so at once,” before taking off. Mahad sighed once the young man was well out of hearing range, because this really was an unexpected trial from the gods. His father rarely visited the capital, having only done so twice since Mahad had been “invited” to be his little prince’s companion. And while Mahad had done his best to bridge the gap of distance and status via sending frequent letters home regularly, he was unable to lie to himself; their relationship was lukewarm at best. 

_I was only ten when I was summoned to be Atem’s companion, and it’s been eight years since then. Now, I’ve spent nearly half my life away from them; our only real contact has been our exchange of letters. How could we be truly close? Especially when I made so many mistakes in our previous reunions…_

Shaking off these old, dark thoughts, Mahad made his excuses and retreated to his personal quarters to get his appearance in order. Normally he wouldn’t put in an excessive amount of effort into his appearance, not unless there was a reason to do so. Mahad felt that a neat, clean, uniformly appropriate appearance was the best presentation for someone in his position. Too opulent, and he invited censure and trouble to his little prince and his mentor. But too humble would invite just as much accusation, because Mahad’s position wasn’t a humble one.

A bit of consideration of the current situation, and his father, then had Mahad putting on jewelry that had been recently made for him. For all that he privately begrudged Princess Nebthet for dragging in anyone capable of alchemy into her schemes, it was becoming evident to even the blindest of fools that they’d been wrong to dismiss their previous achievements. _How else would I suddenly have a wealth of pure gold jewelry? Let alone those with precious stones embedded?_ Selecting the finest pieces that would be suitable for this, Mahad put on gold armlets, rings, earrings, and a broad-collar necklace inlaid with ruby and emerald. 

Looking at himself in a copper mirror, he thought, _At least this time my father will find no faults in my dress. This won’t be a disaster so long as I keep my wits sharp. I just have to make my spine straight, and remember I’m well over the age of majority._ With his mind steadied by the preparation time, Mahad made his way out of the palace grounds and into Thinis proper. It was not a long journey, since his family had managed to purchase a small manse in the noble quarter near the palace. 

Going through the entrance with his head held high, Mahad was shown to his father by a young man. He found Masaharta in his office, papyrus scrolls neatly aligned on the desk, and sitting stiffly. Despite his father’s clear intent of trying to cow him by choosing his study - as if Mahad were a boy who needed stern disciplining, instead of a grown man who’d come to see his father - Mahad smiled warmly and took the initiative to speak first, “Father, it’s been years. It’s so good to see you again! I was very lucky I could put off my meetings today when I got your messenger, as I’d hate to miss you. Will you be staying in Thinis for long? If you are, I’ll make the effort to clear some time out of my schedule for you.” 

The scar that cut through his father’s lip stretched slightly, before Masaharta’s flinty eyes opened a bit wider in interest. “...I’ll be here for a short period of time Mahad. I dislike leaving your mother alone for long, and Khenut suspects she’s pregnant.”

_Of course, it’s another “short period.” How long will it be this time, I wonder. Dare I guess a week? Or just the few days it takes to disguise that you’re assessing the court and my little prince?_

“That’s wondrous news. My little sister, pregnant! And only a year after her wedding, at that.” Mahad said sincerely, as it was good news. His little sister had been a shock to his parents, as the doctors had already confirmed it was beggaring belief that his mother could get pregnant once. Since the gods had decreed his fate was to be by Atem’s side, likely for his whole life, it was good his sister would look after their parents. _And frankly, the idea of marrying just feels… Exhausting. I have enough with caring for Atem and Mana._

“Indeed, since it seems like you have no interest in continuing your bloodline. I hope His Highness will reciprocate, and ensure your place in the afterlife.” Masaharta’s words were said with the dry, cold sternness that had seen him rise to the position of captain once, but Mahad felt pleased. If his father was snapping his jaws shut this quickly, then he’d successfully unsettled the man by not folding like wet papyrus. 

Inhaling slowly, Mahad dropped his warm smile and showed his father that he was capable of being just as stern. “Prince Atem is a good and honorable soul, Father; the blood of the gods runs very strongly in him, giving him true righteousness. If I do wind up without a wife or child, I know he’ll ensure my afterlife and give me all the comforts I might want.”

Masaharta fell silent, before a wide, satisfied smile stretched across his face. It pulled his scar tightly, but there was no sign of discomfort. “I see you’ve finally grown up Mahad. It’ll reassure your mother when I tell her that.”

He ignored how every word out of his father’s mouth made him feel even more exhausted. His father had always been a cunning old crocodile. “I am eighteen years old, Father. If I hadn’t grown up by now, it’d be strange.”

“It doesn’t hurt that children age you beyond your years. Since we’re now both men, I’ll dispense with the trappings.” Masaharta said, before grabbing his cane and standing. 

Watching as his father moved around his desk slowly, hand on its surface to help balance him, Mahad frowned when he saw no evidence of his father’s crutches. _Looks like his pride was pricked over how badly his leg is bothering him._ “Father, where are your crutches? Should I assist you?” 

His father snorted in dirission at the questions, despite his legitimate concern “My son, I might be missing half of my right leg but it doesn’t mean I can’t get around. Khensa gave me a cane a few years ago, as you can see.” 

Mahad did take a look at the small cane that was now visible as Masaharta cleared the desk and moved to one of the chairs. It was a fine cane, made of expensive cyprus and lightly embellished with gold leaf. He also had no doubt it could also double as a reliable club, and that was why his father favored it so. _You might have become a scribe after you were unable to fight Father, but you’re still a proud soldier. A proud soldier that Mother has marching to her tune._

“Mother has always had good taste. Now, Father. Why have you decided to visit Thinis now?” He naturally had his suspicions, but it was better to have his father admit it.

Surprisingly however, it seemed his father might have been sincere in his claims about trappings. Masaharta seemed honest as he said calmly, “Why else? This alchemy business has the nomarchs interested. Especially since, apparently, our Crown Prince has finally pulled out a talent that isn’t about _games_ or is about being able to summon a god.”

It seemed like his suspicions were correct then. His father was once again here to take an assessment of his little prince, and garner a first hand account of the state of court. It would of course be in addition to whatever he had already heard, whatever he could find while here… But this visit was really nothing more than scouting. Mahad just counted himself lucky that his father “paid” for the information by giving him insight into the stance of the Delta nomes.

Normally, there wouldn’t be someone who could earn enough respect of so many proud nomarchs that they’d actually give his insight serious weight. Self-interest, nome rivalries, and the chance a royal decree might oust the nomarchs in favor of another, kept friendships shallow and alliances rare. But, Mahad’s father was almost something out of a wild fireside story. 

Masaharta had originally been an illiterate villager born near the border, one of too many children for his family to support. He’d sought both his own personal fortune and to relieve some of his family’s burden by joining the army under the deceased King Ankhmare. Purely on his own talent, and the battle merits he’d accumulated while on the many military campaigns King Ankhmare conducted, Masaharta had climbed to the rank of captain. Unfortunately, his military career ended when he lost his leg to an infected injury. 

However, what use was the money his honorable discharge gave him? He could purchase his own farm, but he’d have no funds with which to hire someone to do all the work he could not. Masaharta’s family had dispersed under the pressures of daily life while he was at war, so no village woman worth marrying would marry him; it would mean she needed to do the work of several people if she did. 

As he had been well aware of his situation, Masaharta had reached out to the army-scribes that had been assigned to his unit. He had argued his case, and convinced one of them to give him a chance at becoming a scribe. And despite his age, barely healed injuries, and the difficulty of learning hieroglyphics and hieratic while following the army, Masaharta had managed to reverse his fortunes again to become a highly respected scribe.

With such a history, which of the nomarchs wouldn’t respect him? Especially when he’d wound up marrying the youngest daughter of the nomarch of Ahment nome, the famous diviner Khensa? 

_If I can get even a little of his acknowledgement for my little prince, so much would be affected!_ Mahad kept these thoughts in mind as he ignored his father’s purposeful provocation. “Games are ultimately about strategy and tactics, his talent for them showcases his innate capacity for higher thinking. And who doesn’t enjoy doing things they’re good at? It’s not like Prince Atem can participate in hunting.”

Masaharta was quiet for a moment, before nodding slightly “That’s true, perhaps more people should remember that. Though I wonder how long you had to think of that answer Mahad.”

Mahad gave the barbed words little attention, instead asking, “And how long have the nomarchs been sending messengers to beat down your door? 

His father’s scar stretched with some unseen clenching of a muscle, telling Mahad exactly how much they must have been leaning on his father. “With such a sudden change in the news coming from the capital, everyone’s curious. The Crown Prince had seemed to be taking more and more after the King, since he hasn’t shown any sign of his grandfather in years.”

_And by signs, you mean that Atem no longer acts like the utter brat he was when he was four years old. The nomarchs must have left their intelligence in storage if they think they should want that sort of behavior. How exactly would it be preferable for him to be unchanged? No one had ever dared to say no to him before I was called here! His tantrums were horrible, destructive things! Without even his wetnurse, all he had was the King’s sporadic love!_

“King Ankhmare was what Kemet needed then, but not necessarily what we need now. The gods have given our King an heir that’s fitting for the days we have ahead of us, Father.” Mahad countered, once he had swallowed the heated words in his heart. 

Masaharta was quiet for a moment, before giving a reply that sank Mahad’s spirits.“Yes, they have. An odd one, but the nomarchs will adjust so long as prosperity continues to follow. My son… You should reconsider where your loyalties lay.”

Inhaling slowly, Mahad told himself that at least the nomarchs were finally showing some positive interest in his little prince. Once he had, he slowly said “I have dedicated nearly half of my life to Prince Atem, and I have seen he has the potential to be a good King. I will not throw away his genuine care for me merely because Princess Nebthet shines so brightly.”

His father was the one quiet for a moment, before giving a bitter, rasping chuckle. “I see why you’re not worried about having children to tend to your tomb, son. Do you think you can remain so unswerving in the future? Or will you regret rejecting the opportunity to become one of her people?

Mahad stared his father in the eye as he said, “I am a wholehearted person. I will not regret my choices.”

Masaharta was the one to blink first, before saying “Well then. As wholehearted men, let us speak of Kings and succession. A grandfather cannot throw his grandchildren to the jackals.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Fatherhood.  
> Egyptian Notes:
> 
> 1\. The rumors about Nebthet's "true origin" are a sizable portion of why many people just...accepted her very unnatural, unchildlike behavior. Other people just assigned it to the fact the King, and his direct family, have the blood of the gods in their veins; any amazing things are just par the course. And there's some other, hidden opinions that may or may not get brought up.  
> 2\. In an aggravating moment of research, the nome that Mahad is from has a "regional/nome capital" named Apis. This pops up in religious things, like the Very Important object of worship "Apis Bull." However I can't find if the place itself has any connection to the Apis Bulls.  
> 3\. Abacuses are... well we don't know for sure where they were invented! Or when. It's one of those things where it's "we know it at least popped up at this point in time, since this is the oldest example we've found" but it was so ubiquitous that there's no especial records to point to who made it first. The trade routes that, ultimately, via a lot of different merchants, could connect Egypt all the way to China and Indonesia means we'll probably never know.   
> 4\. While it's a bit vague about how bad rivalries between nomes could be, we do know they existed! It's speculated as a cultural remnant from before Egypt was unified.  
> 5\. Nomarchs are one of those things where their status varies on the era you're looking at. Sometimes they're purely regional governors that are appointed and dismissed by the King, sometimes it's a hereditary position, and during the Intermediate Periods they become petty-kings. Right now we're in-between "appointed" and "inherited", working fully towards "appointed" as the First Dynasty matures.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeskip is over for now, as we're about 1.5 years after Mahad's chapter.

Carefully ignoring the prone figure laying on her lounge, since he was already irritated enough over his condition, Nebthet continued reading over the report from the House of Double Silver. It had accompanied the official report from the treasury, as this one was from one of her carefully selected and cultivated contacts inside the House. _It’s really too bad I can’t expand much further in the treasury. Unlike the Judiciary, it seems like the King pays attention to his money. That, or it was just Akhenaden warning me he_ **_would_ ** _react if I overreached there._

The formal report was on the comparison between the reserves of natural gold and silver – including calculations of how much they’d currently recovered from jewelry, decorations, and so on – and the building reserves of alchemic precious metals. There were already steps being taken in regards to possible future attempts at counterfeiting via alchemic substitutes, but the treasury was concerned that the current procedures for monitoring and verification couldn’t be adapted for the alchemic metals.

_Still can’t believe the sorcerers were sitting on the fact they were able to magically convert desert sand into goddamn gold, purely because the alchemic product doesn’t have the inherent magical properties of natural gold. If there’s no way to physically tell the alchemic apart from natural, and the alchemic product doesn’t degrade back into its original substance over time, then there’s no reason not to boast about your accomplishment! But no, the nerds said nothing until I investigated. Now I’ve gotten the damn credit, and made more work for myself._

_The Judiciary nearly exploded when Akhenaden personally got involved, because if the Vizier drops everything he’s doing to come and assess the situation… Gods, the sheer amount of laws and regulations we not only have to rewrite to account for alchemy being able to create precious metals and gems physically indistinguishable from the natural counterpart, but the new ones we’re going to have to make wholesale, are enough to give me heart palpitations. We’re still not done with my initial legal project! Hell, we’re still arguing over the Items!_

Her unofficial report however, was more concerned with the productive capacity of the sorcerers who’d found themselves conscripted into the House of Double Silver. Just as no two people were alike, no two sorcerers had the same magical abilities. The report seemed to indicate that single element ingots -such as gold, silver, copper, and tin - were the easiest for the sorcerers to make. Even the sorcerer with the worst output was able to reliably handle metal ingots, especially with the equations Atem had come up with. The ingots of gemstones however… Those were apparently the hardest to produce correctly. 

Reading further, Nebthet was completely unsurprised to find that Mahad outstripped every other sorcerer in productivity by miles. According to the report, the House of Double Silver currently had him on a bimonthly quota of producing five pounds of gold and silver, three pounds of lapis lazuli flecked with alchemic gold, two pounds of amethyst, carnelian, and malachite, and finally one pound of corundum. _Mahad’s also much more efficient in time and resources it looks like, according to the notes. On average, it takes about ten pounds of desert sand to convert to one pound of gold; Mahad’s recently achieved only having to use seven pounds for the same amount of gold. I wonder if it’s just getting more familiar with the alchemy process, his innate talent, or something else… It’d be nice if the others could pick up the pace. After three years of this, and we have barely hit the equivalent of ten percent of the natural gold in the treasury._

Nebthet then reconsidered her assessment on the total production of alchemic gold, as most of the initial alchemic products had been used to replace all the items that had been melted back down to recycle their materials. Gold jewelry had especially taken the lion’s share of the first year’s efforts, even if the struggle over creating alchemic gemstones that passed a jeweler’s standards had resulted in a new fad of pure gold jewelry. And thanks to this, and the inability to distract the eye with color, even a novice like herself could spot how the goldsmiths had been forced to further hone their skill, precision, and technique. 

“My princess, am I such poor company that you’d prefer to continue working even now?” 

The sour, slightly offended tone had her look up from her report to find her friend had turned onto his side to look at her. Or, more accurately, frown at her while pained cobalt eyes glared at her report. “I need to keep up with my affairs you know,” Nebthet told him lightly, before looking back at her report. “Your bad luck at having terrible growing pains at sixteen? There’s nothing I can do about it but keep you company.”

Seth gave a soft “hah”, before taking on a more persuasive tone “But it’s been months since I’ve been able to see you in person, my princess. If it wasn’t for this, we’d still be exchanging letters by messenger.”

What he said was true. Ever since they’d compromised on how they would approach achieving Seth’s ambitions two years ago, Akhenaden had surprised her by giving Seth a _great_ deal of his personal attention. Even considering that Akhenaden was infamous for his meticulous way of handling matters he was responsible for – and his more recent status as Seth’s official mentor – it really was noteworthy just how carefully he was approaching Seth’s ambition and education. _And the fact that after Seth and I approached him on this, Akhenaden corrected me and said I should be calling him “Uncle”... I still am uncertain what the hell I did to have earned that. Was it because he thought I was handing him a valuable resource? That I was showing maturity by not trying to force Seth to my yoke, when I can’t give him the help he needs to become the High Priest of the Set cult?_

The friendship she’d hoped she might find with Seth had also blossomed… Only for them to rarely see one another now. If Nebthet was honest with herself, there was one reason why she was sitting here, doing the minimum of her daily tasks instead of reviewing the new diplomatic relations they were establishing with the Minoans. She had missed Seth, and missed seeing him every day. 

“Are you sure? You look like you’re still in pain.” She asked in consideration, calculating how much work she had left for today. 

He gave a quiet laugh, before a calloused, sun-tanned hand reached over to cover one of her own. “My princess, I’m sure. Spend the afternoon with me? We haven’t been able to really talk, since our letters can be read and intercepted.”

Nebthet sighed with fake helplessness, before rolling the papyrus up and saying “You’re getting too clever for your own good. This must be why the gods have you growing so much. You need all that extra space to fit your quick wits.”

As she placed the scroll down on the side table, Nebthet saw how his frown immediately turned into a satisfied grin. “My princess flatters me, but at this rate I will need to commission new furniture; I’ve nearly outgrown my own bed. And combined with the pain in my legs, I feel like I could do without more height.”

Nebthet adjusted her arm to catch his hand in her own two hands, turning it over to look at the calluses there. “Then you should ask the gods to send some of that height my way. I haven’t grown an inch in a year. And, I’m no expert, but I’d swear some of these aren’t from writing?”

While she didn’t have the hard calluses a professional scribe would develop over their career, she knew what they’d look like; these weren’t those kinds of calluses. “High Priest Akhenaden has had me begin training with an axe and dagger.” He explained, flexing his fingers in her hands. “The Rod is the only Item that is functionally a weapon, and I should know how to use it. He’s said that I will shortly begin training with the Rod itself.”

At that surprise, she jerked her eyes up to look at his; there was a strong current of vicious satisfaction there. _It’s real then. Akhenaden’s not going to allow Userhet to keep acting as he has been, and is going to finally force him to do the minimum required. Or is Seth going to be the first to officially succeed the position?_ “It’s a smart idea to train you in weaponry, and have you get used to handling the Rod before you become the wielder. Is Uncle still…” 

Nebthet paused, unsure how to broach the topic. Shadow Magic, as she had learned, was a force not usually given to affecting the physical world. It instead most often worked within the more nebulous realms of the mind and soul, both of which were very dangerous things to toy with; Shadow Magic had extremely little in the way of healing or correcting damage it did. _And with such a combination – the potential of incredibly dangerous, nearly irreversible mistakes, and important students who you_ **_absolutely_ ** _cannot allow to be harmed – there’s only one solution. You have to get test subjects._

After they had summoned their Ka that day three years ago, the shared Shadow Magic class had gone back to the practicals Nebthet had expected to begin with. They had practiced summoning their Shadow Magic and dismissing it, refining their control while testing their stamina. It only took the class a few days to master that phase, but the next phase had shocked the others; no one else had expected to be told they would now begin casting spells on animals. 

_But thank the gods that even Atem’s initial fussing didn’t get it removed. If he had, the consequences would have been terrible._

It had been eye opening just how easily, how horribly Shadow Magic could go wrong. Sometimes it seemed like Shadow Magic naturally was drawn to pain, with how much it would make the animals suffer. But every time one of her spells went wrong, Nebthet grit her teeth and continued. 

The only other one who had seemed to understand her mentality was Seth, until the instructor timidly informed them that they would eventually move onto humans. He’d hurried to assure them they would be magicians like himself, people with the ability to protect themselves if something went drastically wrong. Using himself as an example however, did the opposite of reassuring any of them; they all adopted a similar mindset to her own. After the attitude adjustment, it took months more of such classes – testing their spells, curses, and control on the various animals – until they were all certified to begin testing their abilities on seasoned magicians. 

_Even with the precaution of using animals to get control, Atem still nearly killed one of the magicians. Mahad had to calm him down from hysteria while Shimon hurried over with the Key, and… Well, we all finally understood that Atem is in a league of his own in regards to sheer power. Shimon then_ **_somehow_ ** _rearranged his schedule to be our test subject, since the Key offered him not only the usual protection the Items give but also additional protections for his mind._

Recently, however, Seth had subtly implied in his letters that Akhenaden was going beyond where the shared class ever had; using regular people, ones unable to protect themselves at all. Nebthet had originally hoped she was reading too much into it, until her understanding of Akhenaden’s character had her reevaluate. For matters of state, such as the training of the successors, she felt he would do whatever he felt was necessary to ensure Seth met his standards. And it _was_ well within her Uncle’s means to acquire someone meant to die – or to offer enough incentive and compensation to get volunteers – for Seth to practice on.

“Yes.” His hand twisted in her grasp to grab one of her hands to hold, and then squeezed it. “For now, it’s voluntary for them and I have been very careful. I…” Seth paused, frowning again as his hand tightened on hers. “I do not like it, but he is the Vizier. And when I wield the Rod, I will have to do similar things.”

She frowned as she heard his words, though it did soothe a part of her to know that Seth didn’t support what Akhenaden had been ordering him to do. _Uncle knows damn well that that isn’t the case. Unless it’s in a time of war, or directly related to the safety of the King, the proposed law codes are clear: The Rod and the Items are divine relics meant for safeguarding the country, so they ought to be a case of last resort in legal matters. If the wielder of the Rod has to pass judgement frequently during peacetime, something is amiss in our kingdom! So, why would Uncle…_

“Currently the law is being written that the Rod is only to be used on criminals who have committed severe enough crimes, or on those who have been confirmed as being possessed by foreign Ka.” Nebthet said quietly as she looked him in the eye. 

It took him only a moment to get her message, and then his frown eased as he asked, “You’ve gotten the framework for the legal use of the Items then?”

“Somewhat.” Nebthet answered in a more normal tone, willing to go along with the subject change. “The Judiciary and I are basing the legal code off of how they’ve already been used in a public setting, but some things simply don’t translate well into writing law. Like the case where a particularly clever scribe proposed the question of if it would be just to arrest someone the Necklace foresaw would hurt the King more than a year from the prophecy; the catch is, of course, that the person currently has no intentions or plans to harm the King. That debate is still ongoing, though I had to put my foot down when it was getting too philosophical.”

Seth arched his eyebrows at her, lips twitching as his voice fought to remain steady, “Truly a pressing question, my princess. Will your scribes next ask if it is moral to force the user of the Eye to remove their own eye?”

She scowled and pinched the back of the hand still holding onto her own, “Don’t you dare even suggest the idea. The Necklace alone is giving me grief.”

He burst into laughter at her expression, before saying lightly, “Don’t worry, my princess. My lips are sealed.”

Nebthet sighed, before letting his teasing go. “Since you’ve had your fun, tell me about traveling through Kemet. Uncle had that period where he wanted you to see every major temple to Set, right?”

“Mmm, he did. Though I think the sailors were about ready to see if they couldn’t bribe me into staying on the boat for the entire trip…”

* * *

Her reunion with Seth didn’t last long; he was only able to stay in the palace as long as his growing pains were so severe. So, after a fortnight of laying on various lounge beds and couches, Nebthet had to bid farewell to her friend again. This time however, Seth wasn’t being sent to visit yet another temple dedicated to Set. Instead, Akhenaden had sent Seth off to the chief temple of Gengen Wer for the promised lessons in using the Rod. _I really have to hand it to Userhet, it takes a certain level of shamelessness to run away from court and hole up in your territory to avoid Seth learning how to use the Rod. But if Userhet thought Akhenaden would pause over essentially invading another cult’s holiest temple, he was deluding himself._

However, now that Seth once again out of reach, Nebthet had to seriously give thought to what he had confirmed. While she couldn’t say for certain if Akhenaden had abused his authority as Vizier to flout the law – since there was every possibility Akhenaden had lied to Seth about the people having volunteered – it certainly didn’t look good. After all, if this was something that Akhenaden wasn't ashamed of being known, then why was only Seth going through this?

And Nebthet was convinced it was _only_ Seth, since she had a high degree of certainty the others weren’t doing this. They would have loudly balked at the fact these people couldn’t defend themselves, because they’d seen what happened when Shadow Magic was left to ravage defenseless animals. _Seth though, can’t balk even if he wants to. Akhenaden is his mentor, a member of the royal family, the High Priest of the Osiris cult, and most importantly, the Vizier of Kemet. At most he can argue against it the once, and I believe the once would be why he got an explanation about the subjects having volunteered._

Nebthet frowned as she stared aimlessly at the papyrus she was supposed to be reading. The only one who could possibly question and rebuke Akhenaden was her father, but she’d need to be stupid beyond belief to try going to him. Akhenamkhanen very clearly wanted nothing to do with her. She couldn’t recall even a single time he had so much as spoken to her outside of very public events, and those instances were short to boot; there was no foundation or relationship that would make him consider her words.

And worst of all, was all the signs she had noted over the years about Akhenamkhanen’s rule. If her suspicions were correct, would he do anything to the man who took care of all the dirty, hard work of ruling? _Not unless Uncle stabbed someone to death in front of him, and maybe not even then._

She sighed at her depressing thoughts, because she really couldn’t see any way to proceed. If she dared to raise the issue in Court – thus potentially gaining the social pressure on her father to act – it not only would backfire on her, but would reveal the fact Seth had disclosed this to her. She would have to be a terrible friend to knowingly expose Seth to Akhenaden’s displeasure, especially knowing what she did now.

No, for the time being it was evident that Nebthet would need to let the matter go.

_However… If Akhenaden’s willing to sink to these kinds of measures just to train Seth, then I should start to keep an eye on everything he’s doing as Vizier. And I also should set someone to investigate his overall career as well. It’ll have to be careful, but I can argue that it’s for my education that I want to investigate my father’s reign. Hmm, I should try to check on my grandfather’s reign as well while I’m at it. It’ll muddy the waters, and maybe give me some solid information on why we’re at odds with Lagash._

And to think she had just managed to finally lay to rest her old concern over the Eye’s mind-reading abilities being constantly active, thanks to using her legal project to carefully question Akhenaden in the role of a wielder of the Eye…Nebthet then decided she should err on the side of caution. She would ask Hui to take another offering to the goddess she was named after tomorrow, just in case this was a bit of divine favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egyptian Notes:
> 
> 1\. Yes, the sorcerers have discovered how to _make gold_ sans Philosopher's Stone. Magic is wonderful and gives you so many new complications and issues. Like how do you keep from devaluing gold and prevent alchemy-frauds.  
> 2\. Making gemstones is naturally much more complicated than single element materials! There's an absolute ton of things that go into making them, especially jewelry-quality gemstones, that the sorcerers are having to figure out via backbreaking experimentation. It's not going well so far.  
> 3\. We know fairly little about the Minoans, since there's pretty much no surviving written records of substance about them. Most of what we know comes from wall art, and art in general! There's also some speculation that Egypt influenced the Minoans' art style, as there's the same "side profile but you have to show everything is there" aspects in a number of pieces. They'll be popping up more, since alchemy has kicked off some stuff.  
> 4\. I keep using inches/feet/miles/etc since it's easier on myself and the reader not to try and force the measurements that would have been used in Ancient Egypt. Like, the actual measurements might pop up every now and then but it's never going to be omnipresent.


End file.
